Page 41 of Searching for Hope

What happened when people went missing?

Did you just keep on being married forever?

Throughout the night he kept knocking on my door, demanding to be let in. He pleaded. He commanded. He whispered and he yelled. He sat on the other side of the door until I fell asleep.

And then he started it all again the next day. I knew I needed to let him in, let him explain, but I couldn’t, not then. Not yet. I need some distance. I’m too close. Too close to him, to Ette, to finding Hope.

And that’s why I’m here, standing at the door of the only person in this house I can claim as family. Even if he is a monster.

I press the buttons. The door beeps and pops open the slightest bit. It’s heavy when I push it open. My father looks up, his face breaking into something close to a smile when he sees it’s me.

“Everly?” He bows his head in relief. “Everly, it’s so good to see you. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I drag the wooden chair out from the wall and sit down. “I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”

His eyes scan over me as if to check my claim. “Are they treating you alright? Are they feeding you?”

“I’m fine. No complaints.”

He looks behind me, expecting someone else to enter.

“It’s just us,” I say. “He said I was allowed to visit you.”

He shuffles toward me, sitting crossed-legged on the ground. “I’ve been so worried about you. When he dragged you out of here, I didn’t know where he was taking you, what he was going to do to you.”

“I’m not here to talk about him.”

His eyes dart to the strip of glass in the door even though it’s black from this side. “Did he send you? Are you here to try and get—”

“I’m not here to talk about him.” My voice rises in strength.

“You know I didn’t mean what I said before. I said it in order to protect you. If he thought I didn’t care about you, then he might not hurt you. He hasn’t hurt you has he? I’ve been down here alone for so long. I don’t know what he’s doing. He’s not a—”

“I’m not here to talk about him!” I yell this time.

My father reels back. His demeanor changes from apologetic to indifferent. “Then why are you here?”

“Why are you the way you are?”

He gets to his feet and rolls his eyes when I flinch. “I’m not going to touch you, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re my daughter, for god’s sake. What sort of monster do you think I am?”

“The sort of monster that kept women in hidden rooms for years on end.”

He takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t like that.”

“The court seemed to feel differently.”

“It’s because they’re all clueless sheep who follow the status quo without ever once considering that what might at first look evil is actually not.”

I sit back, crossing my hands over my chest. “This will be good,” I say.

“You’re young and naïve, you don’t understand the way the world works.”

“Well then, explain it to me, Dad,” I spit out the word.

“There are people a lot worse off in the world than you and me, Everly. The way the world works is that people like me help them out and sometimes, in return, they are expected to provide certain services, sort of like a payment plan. You can’t just expect the world to give you everything without it costing you something.”

“And in the case of those women, of Hope, it cost them their freedom?”

---