An unlocked door.

All it had taken was an unlocked door. That door which led to such an exorbitant price to pay. A price that required far more than she was willing to give. A cost that was equivalent to losing herself.

In her defense, she never thought it was a possibility. Living in a house where you are guarded 24/7 by highly-trained dogs and agents, granted top security because your father just happens to a billionaire, can make one lax. Besides, it was a rule that there were not to be any locked doors, because that would mean you were shunning the rest of your family. Locked doors in tenuous situations. Unlocked doors when you're open-minded. They all knew each other and trusted each other, so why bother?

That rule had been a glaring mistake, right from the start.

It had set off this explosive chain of events. It had turned her world upside down.

She knew she was not dreaming at the creak of the door and the muted curse of someone. She knew she was not delusional when she'd sat up and been hit in the chest.

That gun had a silencer. Her vocal chords could not scream.

Red and black. Black and red. Red for the blood that spilled that night. Black for the darkness that took her in.

Blood and darkness. Darkness and blood. Blood smearing the pristine covers. Darkness descending like a shadowy cloak.