The boy with the curly hair and the crooked nose. I lived here with him. How did I forget? It’s like my brain can’t grasp onto anything.
Benji was nice to me, wasn’t he? He said he loved me. That he’d do anything for me.
Then he left.
Did he really love me?
“Would you like to go inside?” Daddy asks. “See if your old boyfriend is still there, ready to take you back now that you’ve been properly trained?”
My jaw tightens. I try to process the offer. If Daddy is seriously asking, would I actually want to return to my old life?
Benji didn’t love me. He loved the idea of me. The shell of my existence. The promise of what I could be. He never loved who I was on the inside. He didn’t even come to save me.
He tolerated me.
Daddy’s cruel mouth twists into a smile. My stomach churns, truth blasting across my mind: Daddy doesn’t love me either, but he’s seen every dark part of me.
And Daddy will never leave.
“No,” I whisper.
Daddy silently drives the car again.
A minute later, we stop outside black-pointed gates. Weeds flower the cracks in the sidewalk, and bouquets dot the grass. Graves litter the enclosed space.
Blood rushes to my ears.
My mother. She’s here.
She was here.
She left.
Again.
Pain ricochets between my temples.
I can’t face my mother like this. Not anymore.
“Daddy, please,” I beg. “Not here.”
“Go see her grave,” he commands.
“No, please?—”
He bolts, his movements jagged as he exits the car and rips the back door open.
My throat aches. I’m about to cry. “Please?—”
“For fuck’s sake.” He yanks on my arms. “Get out and look.”
The world whirls around me as I stumble out. I don’t know why I resisted him. I should be good for him.
I have to be good.
I have to do this.
The grass is green now, and the blades are freshly trimmed. The groundskeeper must mow frequently now that it’s spring.
