Page 28 of Among the Sins of my Father

“You’re here again?” Jericho’s voice startles me.

I’m in his office, staring at the screen that shows the man I called Master, lost in the bramble of my own thoughts.

Jericho walks over and sits on the edge of the desk. He threads his fingers together and places them in his lap. For some reason, the action makes me feel like a child about to get scolded by the teacher.

“I’m worried about you.”

I keep my eyes fixed on the screen.

“This isn’t healthy, all this time you’re spending watching him.”

I snort. “I think I’m allowed a little leeway considering the situation.”

“True.” Jericho nods. “But maybe you should talk to someone.”

That makes me turn my gaze to him. “Like who? You? Berkley?”

“A professional.”

“And you are going to let me go into the city to see one?”

Jericho frowns. “We’ve already talked about this. It’s too soon. We haven’t decided how we’re going to handle your return in regards—”

I push back from the desk and get to my feet. I’m not having this discussion with him again. He insists he’s protecting me, but his protection feels more like control.

“Hope.” He sighs when he says my name. Like I’m a frustration. A hindrance. “Hope,” he calls out when I ignore him and clump my way down the stairs. “You’ve got to—”

“Stop telling me what I have to do, Jericho.” I whirl around to face him. “Don’t you understand? That’s all I’ve dealt with for years. I’ve lived by someone else’s rules, been told what I can and can’t do. I don’t need you doing the same.”

He’s slightly taken back by my outburst. He blinks a couple of times and then descends the few steps to stand just above me. “I care about you, that’s all. I want what’s best.”

“Well, maybe you should let me be the one to decide that.”

He nods, accepting the rebuke.

I take a deep breath. “I want to see him.”

“A therapist?”

“The monster,” I clarify.

He sighs again. The sound does nothing but annoy me, so I turn and start walking down the stairs, ignoring the words coming from his mouth.

“I don’t think you’re ready, Hope. We don’t need to rush anything. There’s plenty of time for revenge.”

But revenge isn’t what I’m after. Not yet anyway. That time will come. For now, I want to look into his eyes and know he doesn’t have power over me anymore. And I want him to know it too.

I want to confront my demon.

Maybe then he’ll stop haunting me.

“Hope,” Jericho calls out. “Where are you going?” He keeps following me as I stride across the dining room. “You know I’m not going to let you in there.”

I walk through the kitchen and down the passageway. The dance studio is just ahead. Faints strains of music can be heard wafting along the hall to greet us. She must be in there. I push the doors open and Berkley freezes, mid-pose, arms held in an arc above her head, one leg extended behind her, the other tight and taut, balancing only on her toes. She wears a pale pink leotard and a short skirt. Her feet are covered by ballet shoes, the ribbons winding up her calves. Her hair has been twisted into a messy bun on the top of her head.

She looks nothing like the daughter of a monster.

Planting her foot on the ground, she brings her arms and legs down, looking at us curiously. Her eyes dart between Jericho and me, and each time she looks at him, there’s a softening of her stance.

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