Page 138 of The Lair

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Allie, you are…”

He hesitates, and my breathing becomes labored while waiting for whatever he has to say. Despite having worked with my therapist for a year on my family issues, the truth is that the boy-man in front of me still wields the power to hurt me.

“We watched your interview a year ago,” Cindy blurts out.

I don’t know what to say. It makes sense that they watched it, but I’m still struggling to believe the interview happened in the first place. The fact that they’re aware of it shouldn’t feel weird, but it does.

Johnny speaks next. He sounds serious, somber, and I don’t know what to make of it. “At first, we were… I was angry, but then they showed that video.”

Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could speak right now.

“I had no idea all of that had happened,” Johnny continues. “I was too young when the kidnapping happened. I’d heard things, but I thought they were rumors. It was stupid of me, I know, but Mom and Dad never talked about it. The people around us either. It was a taboo thing, and I thought I’d imagined the little I’d heard. I didn’t know about Mom and Dad’s punishments if you didn’t want to film either. They never said anything.”

At this point, it doesn’t surprise me that our parents kept so many things away from Johnny. He was their golden child, the one who was always up for taking pictures and cooperating infamily activities.

“I didn’t know either,” Cindy says, her voice soft. “I was a baby when it happened, and growing up, nobody talked about it. We weren’t allowed to go online without supervision, either, so…”

“After the interview aired…” Johnny starts, only to pause a moment later, as if he was struggling to find the right words. “It’s been difficult, Allie. Very.”

I don’t need to ask to know what he means.

The plan was to do a little more therapy before I fully ventured online. Dr. Rowland said I needed to be emotionally ready for all the conflicting information I’d find, and I agreed. Much like my relationship with Travis, I didn’t want to rush my relationship with the internet either.

I was doing okay. Healing day by day, taking it slow, allowing myself to break down when I needed to and live guilt free.

But then my parents sued me for defamation.

After I got the email from their lawyer, Travis had to spend nearly an hour holding my hair back as I threw up in the toilet. Fortunately, George Eden was quick to reach out to me and offer to pay for my legal expenses.

“We got you into this mess, didn’t we?” he argued.

I told him that no, I’d come forward becauseIwanted to, because I’d promised myself, but he wouldn’t have it. And after a quick trial, the judge ruled in my favor.

But that was months ago, and I have no idea what’s been going on since then.

“I saw what our parents had done to us for what it really was—abuse,” Johnny keeps going. “They put us in danger and disguised it as a fun thing. They… They lost custody of Cindy after your trial. Social services got involved.”

Guilt like I’ve never felt before punches me right in my gut. “What?”

“It’s okay,” my brother rushes out, probably noticing my freak-out. “Well, it’s notokay, but I was able to get her guardianship. I’m her legal guardian now. Right, Cici?”

“Yeah.” She clears her throat. “We manage.”

“Where are they now?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Lying low somewhere in Colorado,” he tells me. “We haven’t heard from them in months.”

I let out a long sigh. “That’s a lot to take in.”

Cindy snuggles to his side, and he puts an arm around her as he tells me, “We wanted to tell you.”

“You did?”

“I’m sorry, Allie. For treating you like an asshole when you were nothing but a victim,” he says. “You said Cindy and I were victims, too, when I came over with our parents last year. I couldn’t stop thinking about that. You said you could never hate us, so I thought we would come here and… I don’t know. I don’t even know if you want us in your life anymore. Maybe this family is broken beyond repair.”

I can tell his words are genuine. For some reason, I can.

I lean over the table, keeping my voice quiet. “I meant what I said a year ago, and I still mean it now. I don’t hate you. Neither of you. I never did.”

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