Page 41 of The Hand that Frays

Since my time at the asylum with Neo, I haven’t felt things like fear and sadness. This, however, has my chestburning with emotion so strong that it’s hard to swallow past.

Because the man pressing up against my back as I stare at the back of the door through the dark space of the closet has the same past as these children have—as Ada has.

My heart is breaking to bits as tears race down my face.

My hand grips the folder tight, causing a burn on my forearm as I envision Neo’s mother standing over him, scolding him, forcing him to eat food laced with poison.

Anger engulfs me like the walls I’ve been keeping around my heart and soul, the ones I erected in that fucking asylum when I crawled across the floor to Neo, have broken. The dam’s wall perforates, thin streams of water mixed with my rage spilling through as the fractures open up more significantly to let even more through until the entire wall crumbles and my body shakes.

“Stupid girl, it’s going to be alright,” Neo whispers against my ear, his hands splaying against my stomach as his steadiness calms the quakes.

“This is… we have to save her. I don’t care if she’s as fucked-up as we are, Neo.”

I know he hears the tears in my voice. Neo Wade has a penetrating perception that doesn’t miss a detail. Ever.

“The way you saved me?” he asks.

It stops my pulse from pounding so loud as I turn in his arms and try to find his eyes in the dark closet.

“I didn’t save you, Neo.”

“Didn’t you?” His forehead presses against mine, and we both simply breathe as the moment drawls on between us. “You allow me to be myself, even with all she did to me. Even though she turned me into the Butcher, you loved me. You crawled to me. You bled for me. If there’s a wayto save the damned, Lyla Wade will do it,” he finishes, and fresh tears trek down my cheeks at his words.

I hope his words ring true.

Because no one deserves to live how the Hatt children or Neo Wade have.

“Open the folder and turn on the light,” Neo whispers, giving me space to do so by backing away from me.

Even though I’ve read all I needed to, I do as I’m told, because the Butcher’s girl is and always will be one thing.

Obedient to her maker.

CHAPTER TWELVE

NEO

Lyla reads from the folder in a hushed whisper, and there’s a sense of urgency in the way she’s breathing as she does so. She’d cried for the little bit she read before I tugged her into this closet, and I knew some of the tears were for me. For the little boy who resonates with the things on the pages of this folder. The boy who grew into a psychopath bent on revenge, even after his mother’s blood splattered his skin nearly twenty years ago.

As much as my mother’s psyche was broken and the reason for her maltreatment, she created my tattered psyche.

She made me in her image.

Much like I did Lyla.

She’s shaking when I fist her hair and turn her around, tugging her closer. Her back hits my chest, and I lean over her shoulder.

I open my mouth against her ear to taunt her back toreality.

The door to the room opens, and the sounds of someone entering and then closing it have me halting.

The edges of the wooden barrier light up as someone flicks the light above the bed.

“I don’t know why you have to fuck with her like that, Ada. You know she’s not like you.”

It’s Carl Hatt’s voice.

“She’s a weak fucking whore. I don’t know how she’s my mother.”

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