Page 3 of Among the Sins of my Father

Mrs Bellamy waits on the front steps just as she did when I first arrived. It’s not raining this time but it feels like it should be. There’s a chilling quietness about the night which is unsettling. The wind teases my dress as I step out of the car. Jericho holds Hope’s door open and she gets out cautiously, her eyes scanning over everything, darting here and there as though looking for danger.

“It’s okay,” Jericho says, offering her a somber smile. “You’re home now. You’re safe.”

She takes his hand, holding the sides of Jericho’s jacket together with the other. She looks so small against the majesty of the building. Her blonde hair stands out against the harsh gloom.

Mrs Bellamy stands with her hands held over her mouth, her eyes shining with tears.

“Is it really you, my dear?” Her voice is a whisper that almost gets carried away by the wind.

Hope merely nods as she embraces her and together they cry. Mrs Bellamy pulls away and holds Hope’s face in her hands, her cheeks squished between her fingers.

“It’s really you.”

I think she’s saying it more to herself than to Hope. It’s like, even though Hope stands before her, she still needs confirmation.

“It’s me,” Hope says. Her voice is deeper than I expected. Tougher. Harsher. Almost defiant.

“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up before you see Ette,” Jericho says, threading his fingers through hers. There’s such familiarity in the action. As though they’ve done it a million times before.

The smile Hope offers him is brief but pure.

Barrett opens the oversized door and Jericho and Hope are swallowed by the Sanctuary. Their home. It used to feel like mine too.

Now I’m not so sure.

chapter two

BERKLEY

I stand on the stairs, the sound of Jericho’s, Mrs Bellamy’s and Hope’s voices floating down from above. Mrs Bellamy is telling Hope about the room they have prepared. The room they’ve had prepared for years. It’s beside Ette’s. Part of the family wing.

I know I suck for having these feelings of resentment. I know I should be happy. Relieved. Excited even. But the violence of her rescue has tainted it for me. And the fact that something changed between Jericho and I the moment he laid eyes on her. It’s unfair of me to think it but I know it’s true.

Mrs Bellamy is offering to run Hope a bath. Hope cries as she tells her she hasn’t soaked in a bath for years. They decide to leave Ette asleep, planning for a reunion tomorrow once everyone has had a good night’s sleep. That doesn’t stop Hope from seeing her though. I creep up the stairs, cautious of the creaks and groans, and watch hidden among the shadows as Hope peers into Ette’s room.

I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose someone and then find them again. Jericho holds Hope close as she weeps. It’s tender and sweet and I slip back down the stairs annoyed at myself for my reaction to their reunion. I’m walking to my bedroom as I hear him say he should leave, let her get some rest. She begs him to stay.

She’s scared.

She needs him.

Of course he stays.

My room is directly under hers. I open the door, ready to climb into my bed and fall asleep, but I know I won’t find any peace there. My mind is too filled with images I want to forget and questions I don’t want to answer. So instead, I creep slowly back down the stairs, slip through the dining room and head towards the basement. I need to remind myself of what was at stake here. Of the whole reason for my existence in this place.

My father is lying on a stretcher. It wasn’t here last time I came to visit, but clearly someone felt sorry enough for him to provide him a place to rest. I rest my forehead against the one-way glass, watching as his chest rises and falls.

What will Jericho do with him now that he’s no longer needed?

Will he nod at Barrett, silently signing his death warrant?

There is nothing special about my father in this moment. He doesn’t look like a monster. He looks like a mere man. An old and fragile man. A man who should be bouncing grandchildren on his knee. Instead he is rotting in a cell paying for the crimes he committed.

But evil doesn’t have a face.

It’s an action. A choice. A decision.

Part of me wants to barge inside and tell him of our success. Explain how I fooled them all. How I got Gorman to reveal Hope’s whereabouts all because he thought he was doing it for him. My father. The monster.

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