“You let that outsider corrupt you.”
“You Judas.”
“You betrayed us.”
“It was him—he brought them here.”
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head, but the woman misread it, touching my shoulder.
“Honey, you’re safe—”
Safe.
With Daddy.
Who was with them.
Who wasoneof them.
My breath snagged painfully, like it had hit barbed wire on the way in. “Daddy…?” I croaked, staring at the open doors where his silhouette moved against the flashing lights.
He growled, “I didn’t use him, Patel. Don’t you dare imply—”
Used.
My pulse thrashed in my ears.
The ground felt unsteady beneath me, even though I was sitting down. The ceiling above me warped at the edges, bending and tilting.
Father’s words echoed and multiplied.
“I should’ve known.”
“Your very existence is a sin.”
“A filthy, demonic whore.”
My hands curled into fists on instinct—and agony shot through them, making me gasp.
“Sweetheart, slow breaths. You’re going into shock.”
But I couldn’t slow down.
Couldn’t understand whether the betrayal was mine or his or both.
Or if Father had been right about everything.
Daddy stepped into view again—his face tight, his eyes searching for me—and something in his expression shifted when he saw my panic.
“Elior—Elior, look at me,” he said, moving toward the van.
I flinched before I could stop myself.
His steps halted.
“Baby…” His voice cracked. “No. Not from me. Don’t pull away from me.”
But my brain wouldn’t listen.
