Page 59 of Searching for Hope

“I’m pleased you got to experience that. Maybe now you understand what you did to those women.”

He smirks. “What I will admit is a cage is a cage, no matter what the decoration.”

“There’s a reason I came to see you.” I pull out my phone and scroll through the countless photos on social media until I come to the right one. He leans over, trying to get a look but I hide it from him.

“You said that if I publicly claimed your name, socially came out as your daughter, you would give me full access to a trust fund in my name, is that correct?”

He cocks his head to the side. “That’s what I said, yes.”

“Do you still intend to honor it?”

He nods to the phone. “Do you have proof?”

“Would a picture of me on Michael Gorman’s Instagram count?”

“Naming you also?

“Of course naming me.”

“I’d need to make a call.”

I just wiggle the phone.

“Show me.”

I move over to him, close enough to show him the image but allowing myself room to slip out of his reach should the need arise. He glances over and looks genuinely surprised.

“I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with the Gormans. You know who they are, don’t you? You know what they do? He’s the wizard behind the curtain, the fountain of information.”

“Do you accept it or not?”

“It’s a photo.”

“A photo of me with your name.”

“It’s your name too,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

I sigh and slide the phone back into my pocket. “Do you accept it or not?”

“Are you going to help your father escape his chains?” He holds up his ankle, dangling it in the air.

“That was never part of the deal.”

“There never was a deal.” He steps forward, the chain tightening the closer he gets to me. “It was never a deal. It was an offer. An offer I can rescind.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I get up from the chair, pushing it back against the wall and denying him the chance to use it.

“The girl he’s looking for, the one I called Iris,” he calls out as I raise my hand to key in the code.

“Hope,” I reply, my back turned to him.

“Hope,” he repeats her name and the sick feeling returns in hearing it come from his lips. “She was a real firecracker that one. She was smart, pretty, rebellious as hell but there was just something about her you couldn’t help but admire.” There’s a nostalgic tilt to his voice. As though he truly believes he loved her. “She was so strong. I just couldn’t break her no matter how hard I tried. That’s why I sold her in the end, I knew she’d never submit. Not fully. Not where they embrace it. Not like your mother did.”

My fingers shake as I enter the code. When the door pops open, I walk away without looking back. I can’t let him see what his words do to me. He would only take pleasure in my pain. It isn’t until the door locks safely behind me that I give myself space to breathe.

Sinking to the floor, my back pressed to the door, I let out a sob. For a moment, I’d somehow allowed myself to forget exactly who he is. It was there in the background, but the reality of it was distant. Evil was a caricature in my head, but my father is a real person.

I’m ashamed that I ever thought he and Jericho were the same. Jericho has proven that everything he’s done is for someone else. For Hope. For Ette. For me. He is the opposite of everything my father stands for.

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