I need help, and I don’t know how to get it.
I wonder if Sarah knows that Father isn’t treating either of us right?
Should I tell her, or not?
What if she does know, and she doesn’t care?
Typing softly, I thank Lesha and leave the messenger.
I can’t search for anything right now. Father said he’ll be searching my computer tomorrow.
I go to the college library page instead and open my online psychology textbook.
Child Development: Nurture vs. Nature.
Hm. That seems like a good place to start if I want to end up with a job as a nanny.
I hug myself tight.Or a little family of my own.
Chapter Two: October Fifth
October 5th, 2025
Eagle Arch (unincorporated), Alaska
“You know, I’ve been reading for my classes. Even people who live in remote places have friends. The men on the oil rigs all have each other, and they have families on the mainland, too. The same with the men in the fishing boats.”
Sarah drops the cereal she’s holding.
I pick it up and hold it out. “Father gets our food from someplace, too. Why don’t I ever—”
“You couldn’t go with him,” Sarah says quickly. Too quickly. She’s afraid, and Father is gone.
“I won’t hurt you,” I whisper, hand held out.
Sarah never touches me. No one touches me.
She stays back, eyes squeezed tight shut. “I know you won’t. I know. You’re not like your father.”
“If Father is hurting you—”
“Not Barton. Your real father. Barton is your stepfather, Imogene, and he hated your father. And your mother, and you, for what you are. You must’ve realized it by now...”
But I don’t realize anything. I feel sick and scared and confused, and I want to talk to Lesha. My only friend is someone in a box, on a screen. They might not be a good person.
But I was raised to think Father was good, and now I think he’s not...
I rub my head.
Sarah points. “The horns! Like your father. And the devil’s tail...”
“What are you...”
Sarah looks around again, fear on her face. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I didn’t say anything. I... I have to go out.”
“What?” I freeze, the box of cereal still in my hand. I’ve never been left alone. Ever.
Because they were afraid you’d run. And you would have run if you were closer to other people.
