Page 7 of Seeds of Sorrow

“Masters isn’t going to hurt you again, Amelia. I can take you somewhere safe, a place where you’ll never be hurt again. There will be more people like you—and people who can help you understand what happened. Would you like to come with me?”

Amelia studied Hadina with those piercing, damaged eyes. Her gaze darted over to Bram and Tony, who stood with their tattooed arms crossed, watching everything that transpired. Hadina noticed the way the girl’s lip wobbled and tears surfaced as she took in her surroundings, likely recalling what she’d been subjected to. All the girls looked around like that, as though they had to commit it to memory before leaving. Hadina supposed it was their way of recognizing trauma before saying goodbye to it.

“Okay,” Amelia whispered, barely audible. Hadina, however, heard her as if she were shouting.

Careful not to spook the girl, Hadina stood ever so slowly and extended her hand. She would never admit it to anyone, but tears formed in her eyes as she felt that small palm slip into hers. “Let’s get you somewhere safe, Amelia.”

“I’m scared.”

Hadina had done this so many times before and each time she believed her heart was incapable of breaking all over again. But Amelia’s whispered words confirmed what Hadina already knew—her heart would continue to break. Or maybe it was permanently broken, shards of what used to be there now cutting into whatever remained inside her. She was cold and could be cruel, but she would never be like Masters, and she clung to that.

“I know,mi niña. But I’ll make sure you never have to be scared again. You’re safe with me.”

* * *

The scalding waterof her shower wasn’t enough to take away the grimy feeling that coated Hadina’s body. She scrubbed furiously, lathering up the soap and repeating the process over and over, until her skin was raw and burned. Hadina slid down the wall of her shower, hanging her head under the torrent of water, and finally let her racking sobs free. Gripping her chest, she let her tears wash away with the soapy suds, taking her secrets and pain with them.

Chapter5

PEYTON

The first weekof work passed in a blur for Peyton. Her routine was the same each day, drinking coffee with Don and listening to him tell stories about his younger years. His parents had immigrated from Mexico to the States when he was ten, building themselves a new life. He told Peyton how they had struggled for a while but the couple worked hard to provide him with the best life possible, even saving up enough to help put Don through college.

“Now, I’m not saying we were rich,” the elderly man said with a half smile. “But we were finally comfortable by the time I went to law school. I had to take out so many student loans, but becoming a lawyer and starting Adis & Co. allowed me to pay my parents back for everything they did for me and I’ll always be grateful for that. Not everyone in my family had that opportunity.”

It was weird for her to not always be doing something but Don assured her that she wasn’t needed for anything except companionship and maybe accompanying him to hospital appointments if needed. Prior to her arrival, Peyton had assumed that perhaps Don needed more assistance than he actually did, not that she was complaining. It was nice to feel at ease for once, not having to constantly worry about the next deadline or how she was going to pay for all her expenses.

It was on her fourth day at the residence that Don walked her through his gardens in the backyard. There were so many different types of flowers, at various stages of bloom, creating a sea of multicolored petals. Peyton smiled and asked Don to help teach her more about his gardening, hoping that it would be an engaging task for them both and also provide her with something to do when Don was napping or didn’t need her company.

She’d found it relaxing as she knelt on the grass and busied her hands with digging and weeding. Don praised her, calling her a natural. She lit up at the words, warmth and pride spreading through her veins. Her dad had never complimented her, or even attempted to spend any time with her.

Peyton felt guilty after that bitter thought crept into the crevices of her mind, threatening to blossom into something angry and resentful. She knew her parents had struggled with her, never quite able to understand their daughter’s mind or make a true connection. It wasn’t her father’s fault that he didn’t know how to reach her, to form a bond, and she certainly hadn’t made it easy on them. Peyton had struggled to try to do the same in return, despite it being what she yearned for most. She found her mother cold and her father distant, even when she tried to bridge the gap of silence between them. It left her feeling lonelier than ever, especially after the loss of her sister.

Leaving her hometown in search of her future was the first time that Peyton had felt free. Now, connecting with Don had helped her find a little part of herself that she’d long forgotten. The little girl searching for a parent’s love was what made Peyton’s eyes water with unshed tears every time Don congratulated her on the simplest of tasks.

Sweeping the bangs out of her eyes while making a mental note to find a local salon to get her hair trimmed, Peyton poured herself a cup of pomegranate and cranberry tea and took a seat on one of the sleek black stools at the kitchen island. She lifted the steaming cup and inhaled the sweet scent. The kitchen was always fully stocked, with so many different types of tea and coffee that it took her almost three days of constant caffeine drinking to find something that she really enjoyed.

It was already eight thirty in the morning without any sign of Don, which meant he was taking advantage of his Saturday by getting an extra hour or two of sleep. Honestly, Peyton couldn’t really blame him. She used to love sleeping in as a teenager but sleep for her was now plagued by nightmares, making her an early riser whether she wanted to be or not.

Even when sleep beckoned her, Peyton struggled to allow herself to be pulled into slumber. She knew that her dreams quickly turned to those night terrors, soaking her memories in blood and tears.

It was always when she fell asleep thinking of her sister that Peyton knew she would be tormented for hours, unless she was able to break free of the grip those nightmares held on her. She would wake on a gasp, covered in sweat, rubbing at her arms as though it would get rid of the gore in her mind. Even as life moved on around her, Peyton’s subconscious frequently chose to remind her of Melina’s lifeless body and the way her blood soaked into Peyton’s skin like tattoos only she could see.

That was why she found it easier to limit the time she spent unconscious—she didn’t think she could call it sleep. If her blood had to be made up of fifty percent caffeine, she was willing to pay that price.

The gray marble island faced the patio doors leading to the backyard, and it was one of Peyton’s absolute favorite places in the house. The yard stretched on forever, leading to a small cottage right at the edge of the property. Peyton had yet to venture out to see it, but every morning, she sat at the island with her steaming cup and felt like she was part of some secret. She stared at the flowers, the fruitful trees, and the cottage and wondered how she had gotten so lucky. Her life had taken a surreal turn, and she wondered if it was all part of some elaborate daydream. She pinched her skin to see if it was real, smiling at the red welt that appeared.

“Good morning, Miss Dimitra.”

Peyton jumped at the voice behind her, spilling tea across the countertop. She quickly hopped off the stool and grabbed a paper towel to mop up the mess.

“Morning, Hadina,” she said brightly, saluting her boss with two fingers. Peyton cringed internally at herself, which was only made worse when Hadina stared at her as though she were stupid.

After leaving the dinner table on that first night, Hadina hadn’t made another appearance. Don said it was typical for his daughter to rush off for work and spend days at a time at her own place, but Peyton hadn’t been able to shake the weird feeling she had after eavesdropping on that conversation between Hadina and her employee. The anger and command in her voice were terrifying—and perhaps a little bit thrilling—but Peyton knew that was just some screwed-up part of her, longing for excitement.

“Where’s my father?” Hadina’s voice was a cool breeze against Peyton’s skin, even if she was standing at the opposite end of the kitchen.

Once Peyton had cleaned the spilled tea and put the towel in the trash, she offered Hadina a slight smile. “Still in bed. I think he’s enjoying the Saturday sleeps, haha.”

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