He nods and holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Hope. It’s nice to put a face to the name after spending years searching for you. Not that I didn’t know what you looked like. It would have been a little hard searching for you if I had no idea what you looked like.” He laughs uncomfortably as I shake his hand. He squeezes gently as though he’s afraid of breaking me.
“Well, thank you for searching for me. Although it would have been nicer if I didn’t have to wait years to be found.” His face reddens and I feel a little mean for my sharp retort. “But I do appreciate what you’ve done.”
“Are you heading back to your room? Would you like me to walk you there?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine, but thank you for the offer. It was nice officially meeting you, Barrett.”
He salutes as I walk away. Strange man.
My room has been decorated in the colors I used to like. Blues and golds and grays. I don’t know what colors I like now. It seems unimportant. Clothes are stuffed into my drawers, presumably placed there by Mrs Bellamy, but again, I don’t know whether I like them or not. I’m not used to having a choice. For now, I’m dressed in oversized sweatpants and a long-sleeved top. It seems safest.
Breakfast will be served shortly, but I don’t go down, even to see Ette. I don’t know what’s worse. Worrying your daughter might forget you, or knowing she has.
Nothing is the same as I left it.
Ette has grown into a young girl, a graceful, smart and beautiful young girl, all of which has nothing to do with me. She tolerates my presence, putting up with it like one might an elderly great-grandparent that your parents insist you visit. Her smile is hesitant and the term ‘mother’ is nothing more than a word. Seeing her interact with the people who have brought her up causes me more pain than I’d ever had while imagining her life without me. Inside my head, it was only a fear, nothing certain, but out here I can see the way she clutches Mrs Bellamy’s hand, the way she rolls her eyes in annoyance at her governess and how she smiles and runs to Berkley every time she sees her.
The feeling that washed over me when I first saw Jericho stride through the bathroom door is nothing like I’ve experienced before. I can’t even describe it. He held me close, whispered reassurances in my ear, wrapped me in his jacket, and kept me safe. The last time we’d been together, his legs had been twisted in mine. His body had been less developed then. Lithe and lean. But now, having witnessed the change when he showed me the tattoo, time has made him hard and defined. His face was dusted in hair that never used to grow. And his eyes have a rigidness that never used to be there.
I barely registered the girl who was with him at the time. She was nothing more than a background player, someone clearly disturbed and needing help, going by her reaction in the car. I never considered her to be of consequence until Ette ran to her. I never suspected her of holding Jericho’s heart until I saw the way he watched her as she danced. And I didn’t have an inkling she was the daughter of the man who kept me captive for years, until I looked deep into her eyes and saw him reflected there.
How Jericho could do this was beyond me. He’s fallen for the daughter of a monster. And children of monsters usually turn out to be one themselves. I should know.
There’s a knock at my door, even though it’s open. I glance up and see Ette peering at me, so I force a smile and tell her to come in. She takes a step closer but doesn’t move past the door.
“Mr Priest said I should check on you since you didn’t come down for breakfast.”
“I’m fine,” I quickly assure her, patting the bed, hoping she’ll come in and sit beside me for a few moments. “I just slept a little too late.”
She notes my hand patting the bed but she doesn’t move. “Mrs Bellamy never lets me sleep in even though I try to every single morning. She says it’s the trait of lazy people to lie in bed all day if they’re not sick.”
“Well, she’s probably right. I will get up. I was wondering if you’d be able to show me the library, actually. I’d love to find a book to read.”
A small frown presses between her brows and her bottom lip pushes out as she thinks. It’s a look so like when she was a toddler, I can’t help the tears that gather.
She takes a few cautious steps toward me and holds out her hand. “It’s okay, I'll show you the way. You don’t need to cry.”
My words are choked. “Thank you.”
She’s silent as she weaves downstairs, through rooms and along hallways. The building is magnificent but confusing. It’s taking me a while to figure out where to go and how to get there.
“Here.” She stops abruptly at the doorway to the library.
“You’re not coming in?”
She shakes her head. “Miss Jones doesn’t like it when I’m late for my lessons. She’s not fun like Berkley.”
“You like Berkley, don’t you?” I ask, ignoring the way my chest constricts as I say the words.
“She’s one of my favorite people in the world,” Ette says proudly. Then her face falls a little and she starts toying with the hem of her dress. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“Where were you?”
My throat thickens to the point I feel like I can barely breathe. How do I answer her? How do I tell my own daughter of the atrocities that were committed? Do I lie? Do I tell the truth?
“Away,” is all I say in the end.