I wake up with a steady throb pounding inside my head. With early childhood conditioning, I don't open my eyes as I scramble to remember what happened. Austin put a drug in my wine and I'm back with my brother. The fact I'm not dead yet is not good. It takes a few minutes to gain the courage to open my eyes.

I squint into the brightly lit room and receive a sharp pain in my head. The four-poster bed is not my brother's and I exhale the breath I was holding. Glancing nervously ...