“Before that. Where did I come from?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t my job to keep track,” he snaps.
I cross the room with long strides and slam my knife into his clavicle. He screams. Ryan screams at me to stop. I don’t remove the knife until Jonathan’s screams turn to whimpers. Then I pull it out roughly. He whines again.
“Has your memory been refreshed?”
“I don’t know,” he stammers. “He just showed up with you one day. I don’t know where you came from.”
“You’re mine, William. You’ve always been mine.”
“Was I an infant?” I ask, ignoring Ryan’s voice.
“No. One. Maybe just older or younger.”
“Was I given to him by a member of the temple? Did someone drop me off? Did he coerce someone to hand me over?”
“I don’t know!” he insists. “I didn’t ask. You don’t question Ryan. You know that.”
“Who would know where I came from?”
“Ryan would.”
“No one else?”
Jonathan shakes his head. “He kept some things to himself entirely. Trusted no one with them. You were one of those things, William. The one thing most precious to him that he never allowed another person to come near was you. You were his angel. His most prized possession. He loved you more than anything.”
Great. A secret Ryan took to his grave. I turn away, my eyes seeking out the camera, knowing that Ellory is watching.
“I don’t really need to know,” I tell Ellory through the camera. “I just thought… if someone was going to have the answer, it would be him.”
Of course, I don’t receive a response. There isn’t a speaker here.
“But if you can find Emily…?”
“I don’t know where Emily is,” Jonathan says. “She disappeared shortly after the massacre on the island.”
“Did you kill her?” I ask, turning to face him again.
“Of course not. I’d never kill her. She was… everything.”
“You’re sick.”
He sighs. I’m surprised that he looks tired. His shoulders sag. He doesn’t argue, but he no longer looks defensive and angry.
These are really sick men. Men who prey on little kids and try to call it something else. They try to legitimize it.
“Would you still think that way if she hadn’t disappeared? Now that she’s an adult?” I muse.
“Yes,” he mutters. “Just as Ryan would still love you.”
“Exactly!”
“What was Emily’s last name?” I ask. “What do you know about her?”
“Roffleheiser. She had an older brother and two little sisters. Her parents were Ulyses and Frannie. They showed up one dayat the temple door for worship. And just like that, the family disappeared as suddenly as they had come.”
I frown. That’s weird.
