Page 114 of Amnesty

She seemed surprised I would thank her. Maybe I shouldn’t. But this was the first show of kindness (no matter how terrible it was) that I’d known in a long time.

If I forgot how to appreciate kindness of any kind, wouldn’t that make me a lost cause? Wouldn’t that make me less human?

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because now it hurts less.”

Something passed around us in the air, but I couldn’t name the feeling. She started to move away again. I let go but stopped her with my voice.

“Who are you?” I asked. I had to know.

“I’m his mother,” she replied after a heartbeat.

Shock rippled through me. “He’s your son?”

“Yes,” she said, emotion clogging her voice. “I’m sorry.”

Her apology caused emotion to well up inside me. Anger. “You know.” I sat forward, making the chain around my wrist clatter. “You know what he’s doing to us is wrong,” I accused.

“Yes.”

“But you help him.”

“He… he’s not well. He doesn’t understand what he does is wrong.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” I demanded. “You should get him real help.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Nearby, I saw Sadie sit up, listening intently. No doubt she had all these questions, too.

“Why can’t you?” I demanded. I was in no position to demand anything.

Actually. Yes. Yes, I was in every position to demand answers.

“They’ll take him away from me. He’s all I have left.”

I fell back against the wall, shocked and shattered. She knew what he was doing was wrong. She knew, and she didn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” she rushed out, then hurried away, toward the ladder that led to freedom.

“How could you?” I yelled after her, anger burning my throat. “How could you let him do this to us?”

I didn’t expect an answer, yet one came out of the darkness.

“Because if not you, then others. The two of you are a small price to pay for his freedom, for the safety of everyone else.”

I said nothing to that. I was too shocked and horrified to even comprehend.

We were nothing but a sacrifice. Playthings to a madman.

The sound of her climbing out of the hole made me look up.

The sound of the deadbolts locking us in made me cry.

Here I’d hoped I’d found an ally. Instead, all I’d found was another foe.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I scolded, even though it really wasn’t a scold. How could I reprimand the woman I loved when she was tucked into my lap, curled against my body, and shivering from whatever the fuck just took over her body and mind?

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