A Book of Villains

Imagine learning everything your mother has ever told you was a lie.

Winter break is over, but no one has seen or heard from Mui. Her roommate hasn’t heard a peep since they last spoke. Messages sent by her boyfriend have gone unread and unanswered. And worst of all, her mother knows the reason.

Sei had always insisted Mui’s father was dead. That is until he abducted her.

Moving at breakneck speeds, a Book of Villains marks the thrilling conclusion to the Mui thriller series. Hang on.

I wish alcohol were to blame for why I woke up not knowing where I was or how I got there. Sadly, my best guess off the bat was kidnapping. I’d seen situations like this play out in movies. A person wakes up beaten. Their hands or feet are bound, or they might be tied to a bed or some other fixed object. I wasn’t tied up, nor was I beaten, from what I could tell—a little sore from sleeping on a hard metal surface, but I could wiggle my fingers and toes. No blindfold, no gag, and I still had all of my clothing intact. On a scale of one to ten for pleasant abductions, I’d say I was sitting at a solid eight.

I’ve also seen abductees in movies wake up in a cabin, a secret underground basement, or in the trunk of a car. The really unlucky ones come to in a filthy room with water leaking from the ceiling and a rat scurrying past their face.

In my case, it was the latter, minus the dripping water and rat. The dingy room I found myself in looked to be about fifteen feet by ten feet, maybe smaller. A single light bulb in the corner shone dimly from the ceiling, revealing patches of rust on the walls.

The space wasn’t hot or cold. There was a hint of dampness in the air, and it smelled a little like ammonia. A single door led out. I could see the hinges, but the handle was missing—there was just a flat panel where it should have been. The door had a food slot with a cover. The welding looked new. I tried opening the slot, but it wouldn’t budge; it pushed inwards only, and I couldn’t grip it. I imagined at some point it would be used to feed me. I hoped. Giving me food indicated whoever took me intended to keep me alive, at least for a while.

Initially, I couldn’t hear any noise or movement on the other side of the door, but then I realized there was a faint, constant hum, like white noise from a sleep machine.

Let’s recap my situation.

• Steel floor and walls held together with rivets.

• Rust patches.

• A single light source. No on-and-off switch.

• Zero furnishings.

I could be anywhere.

Awesome.

My movements felt hollow in the space, like a larger empty area surrounded me.

If I had to take a wild guess, I thought I might have been in an old warehouse or factory. But weirdly, I wasn’t freaking out about the actual abduction. I was more interested in how it had happened.

I had just touched down at San Francisco International Airport. I was returning to school at Confrere Preparatory Academy, having just visited my home in Nafplio, Greece, for winter break. My boyfriend, Ryan Yee, had been with me in Greece, but he had returned to the States before I did, so this was a solo trip.

I definitely remember walking through Passport Control, then collecting my luggage and walking past Customs.

That part was clear to me; so was exiting the arrival hall and getting in line for a taxi. I remembered staring at my phone as I inched my way forward.

Was I paying attention to my surroundings? Nope, just the person in front of me, so I knew when to kick my bag forward.

Was that why I got abducted? Doubtful. It wasn’t random. Someone took me intentionally, and I hoped to find out who when I got fed.

The critical part, for me at least, was what happened after the initial abduction. I did make it into a taxi at the airport. In fact, the driver had even mentioned he was familiar with my school. I remembered the taxi driving off but not much after that. I had my face back in my phone.

I never made it to school—that I was sure of. Confrere was across the Bay in Marin County. Crossing over the Golden Gate Bridge was the most direct way. Did I cross? I thought I did. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I was more than sixty-three percent sure. Though I was totally confident we hadn’t started the drive up the winding road that led to the campus. Sometime after crossing the bridge and before driving up the hill, I had disappeared.

I couldn’t even have told you what the taxi driver looked like. We didn’t speak to each other—I was too busy with my phone to look at his face in the rearview mirror.

Did the taxi driver take me?

He looked pretty suspicious at the moment.

But, but, but…

I know, I know. It’s completely ridiculous, right? I mean, a taxi driver kidnapping me? This was not a made-for-TV movie. And why? How?

There was nothing about his physical appearance, his voice, or even his smell that drew my attention to him. He kept his car clean. The music wasn’t annoying. No weaving through traffic or stop-and-go driving. I would have remembered if we had to stop for gas or pick something up from a convenience store. We didn’t.

So if it wasn’t the driver, the million-dollar question was, how on Earth did my abductor pull it off?

In a situation that would be freaking most people out, being held captive, I was utterly consumed by the play: How did he do it? What did he do to get me out of the backseat of a taxi and into this pitiful room without hurting me or having me recall a single thing about the actual abduction?

I desperately wanted to know. Because he pulled off one incredible feat.