Page 49 of Bitter House

I will never live down the guilt over my daughter. If I could bring her back, selfishly, I would walk away from this life in a second, but I can’t. The only thing that gives my soul a bit of respite is knowing that I am still doing the one thing I have control over.

I won’t back down. I won’t stop what I set out to do. To kill the rapists and murderers and abusers. The fathers and brothers and husbands and friends who wield their power and strength to hurt those who can’t defend themselves. These last three years have reminded me of why this is important. Why what we do matters.

We have saved more lives than we’ve taken. Women, children, future women, future victims. I’ve never laid a finger on anyone who didn’t deserve it, and that’s how I sleep at night, knowing that I am a god in my own right, making life better in the only way I can.

I used to get so overwhelmed when I looked at all the evil in the world, wondering how any of it could ever be fixed or made better, but I’m realizing now that even if I can’t make it all better, I can make some of it better for a handful of people, and that’s enough. It has to be enough.

As much as it kills me, I haven’t spoken to my family in years. It’s too big of a risk. If it means they have to hate me in order for me to keep them safe, then so be it.

Bridget is the only one I have no choice but to keep close. If I don’t, she has no one. I have no idea where she would go, and I’ve heard too many horror stories now about those sorts of situations.

She will stay with me and out of trouble, close enough that I can keep an eye on her until she’s old enough. But I’ll hold her at arm’s length, never letting her get too close because it would only make the inevitable hurt worse. Getting close to her will mean the day I send her away will break both our hearts, and right now, I can still hope to only break mine. Once she’s old enough, the second she’s ready, she’ll have to go, too. Far away from me. Should anyone ever come for me to punish me for what I’ve done, I need them to believe I don’t care about her.

But I do, diary. I’m watching this little girl grow up, and she reminds me so much of her mother. Sometimes I just sit and watch her, and it’s as if we’re in a different time and place altogether. It’s a cruel sort of bliss in that way.

Cole and Bridget are safe here, protected by Edna and me, as well as Jane, Lily, and Cate. The kids can never find out what we do, though. No one can.

Well, I suppose that’s not true. Edna knows everything, but she wants no part of it. She’s too soft for this life. But she’s a better mother to my granddaughter than I could ever be, and that’s more than I could ask for.

She takes care of my home and my family, while I take care of the world. Take care of making sure someday the world will be just a little bit better for Bridget. Really, I think that’s all I’m hoping for.

Isn’t that what we’re all hoping for? To leave the world a little brighter for our daughters? A little safer?

As I get older, as I see more, it’s difficult to remember that. To remember why I do this, especially on the hard days when all I want to do is scoop Bridget up and run away with her, take her someplace where I can protect her forever. Where it’s just me and her and none of the evil that exists in the world.

The logbook was Lily’s idea, and I have to admit, it has helped. I pull it out from the secret place whenever I need a reminder. Names, reasons. Proof that I’ve done some good with this one, simple life.

But will it ever be enough? If I’ve saved the world and it’s cost me my soul?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

BRIDGET

“Okay, well, first thing’s first, we have to know everything,” I say, pulling the journal back from where it lies on the ground. I turn to the last page we were on and keep reading Vera’s story.

The entries are heartbreaking and eye opening, flipping everything I thought I knew about Vera on its head. She was nothing like I thought. I judged her, misunderstood her. I couldn’t see her pain through my own.

My eyes brim with tears when I read the kind things she says about me, about us. I just wish I’d known before she was gone. I wish I could’ve heard this from her in the flesh.

When I come to an entry that talks about a logbook, I read it twice. Names, reasons…

…I pull it out from the secret place.

Another secret.

Cole reads it a few seconds after I have, his finger shooting out toward the page as he reads the words aloud. He looks at me, eyes wide. There’s still a sadness there, an emptiness that hurts somewhere deep inside me, but it’s been replaced by curiosity. Even as broken as he is by what we’ve discovered, he wants to learn more. “A logbook?”

“Hidden in a secret place. Was there anything else in the hidden place in the wall where we found the gun?” I ask him.

He shakes his head but moves toward the panel to check. “I don’t think so.” He eases Vera’s boots out of the way and feels for the panel, pressing in on the wall when he finds it. The moveable piece of the wall leans in, allowing him space to reach his hand forward into the darkness. His hand searches in the shadows before I move toward him with my phone’s flashlight, scanning the small space. “Nothing,” he says after a moment. “What about where you found the journal?”

I shake my head. “It was really small. I don’t think there’d be room for anything other than this, but I’ll double-check too.” I stand and cross the room, pulling open her drawer and pushing the panel back to search. I run my hand across the entire space, but I find nothing. “There has to be somewhere else. Another secret hiding place.”

“I’d bet Vera has hiding places all over this house,” Cole agrees, sounding wary.

“Yes, but the closet seems to be where she’s hiding most of the important stuff. We need to check everywhere.”

He appears dubious but doesn’t argue. Instead, he sets to work examining the wall while I turn back to the dresser. I press against the backs of each drawer then scan underneath the dresser and along the bottom, searching for anything that might look suspicious, but I only find dust and cobwebs. I move to the other dresser and do the same, then search the backs of both.

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