Instead, what I see sends bile shooting straight up to my throat.
Screenshots of the e-books I downloaded from the library—the ones with the sensual scenes in them. All my subterfuge to keep my uncle and aunt from noticing them was for nothing. They’ve been snooping through my things, looking for any reason to admonish me. And now they’ve found one.
Uncle Aaron—or, more likely, considering the amount of grunt work involved, Aunt Hope—has gone through the books and screenshotted some of the most lascivious passages. It must have taken some time to find all the naughtiest bits. Some distant, detached part of me half wonders if she enjoyed any of it. The books are well written, after all. They pack a strong emotional punch. Why shouldn’t they be enjoyed?
Because people like Uncle Aaron want to make every pleasurable thing in life into a sin, that’s why. Sex. Sugar. Beautiful dresses and silly reality shows. They want to use those things like battering rams to knock other people down and prove their own superiority.
“Read it,” he instructs me now.
Startled, I look up at him again, making sure I’m understanding what he’s asking me. He wants me to read this here, now, out loud, in front of my young cousins. He wants to humiliate me in front of them. And he wants to use me as an example to show them what will happen to them for experiencing completely normal, healthy feelings and urges.
Everything in me rebels against it. But if I don’t? What will happen to me? I have nowhere else to go in Green Valley. Wes won’t be able to break his cover, so I’ll somehow have to find my way back to Chicago with no money, no phone (I’m sure my uncle will confiscate it if I refuse to give in to his commands). I’ll be stuck.
Maybe I can appeal to his mercy. I force my hands to stay down at my sides, force my fingers to unclench. Try to appear meek and broken—just how he likes me best. “Please,” I ask him quietly.
“Read it,” Uncle Aaron orders me, and his voice is somehow both harsh and pleased. “Stand up.”
After a moment’s hesitation, I finally make myself rise to my feet, clutching the papers in my hands.
Before I can begin, Uncle Aaron addresses the rest of the room. “As you all know, children, we hold ourselves to very high standards in this family.”
I’m not part of this family,I seethe silently.Aren’t you the one who’s always reminding me of that?
“So I was very disappointed when I received an alert on my phone that Antonina downloaded some books with highly questionable content. I thought to myself, these books must be work of high quality for my niece to so egregiously disobey our household rules. Why don’t we let her read parts of them out loud to all of us, to see what we think? To see if they’re worth exposing her soul to eternal damnation.”
That’s my cue, I guess. I grip the printed pages tightly in my hands, which are sweaty and shaking. Sick. I feel sick. But I don’t know what else to do. “Hegrabbed the bodice of my dress in his hands ...” I hesitate. Isaiah isthirteen.The twins are fifteen. This isn’t right. Even if the words themselves aren’t shameful, being forced to read them in front of children makes me ill.
“Read it, Antonina.”
I’m sorry,I think to my cousins, before obediently continuing. “... and tears it open. My breasts come spilling out into the night air. He hungrily takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking as I ... as I whimper and moan ...”
I remove myself from the words as much as possible. I am just reading. I don’t let myself fully comprehend what’s written out on the page. I strip away any emotion and just read the words as blandly as possible. It isn’t much of a rebellion, but it’s as far as I can go without being censured.
Deconstruct this bullshit. I’m taking none of this with me when I go. I would rather burn down my entire house than keep any of this in it.
When I finish, the room is suffocatingly silent. No one will look at me. That’s fine. I don’t want to look at any of them either.
“Was it worth it, Antonina?” Uncle Aaron asks me.
I don’t answer him, but that seems to be his desired response anyway. He doesn’t want me to speak for myself. He wants me to wallow in my shame. I stare down at my lap and let him think my tears are from humiliation and not rage.
“Come on,” Uncle Aaron instructs the rest of the family after a moment. “We have to get to the community center so I can give my sermon.”
For all the times Uncle Aaron has berated me about making myself the center of attention, I can’t help but notice that he’s turned tonight into being abouthissermon instead of the family meeting Harmony’s potential future husband.Hypocrite. Liar. Thief. User.Now that the scales have fallen back, I can see Uncle Aaron for who he really is.Abuser.
“Antonina will stay here, of course,” he continues. “So she can think about what she’s done.”
I sit quietly as they file out of the room. I’m afraid to move, afraid to breathe. I want him to think I’m broken, that I’ve been beaten back into submission. I want him to think that I’ll spend the whole night crying here at the hotel.
But I won’t. As soon as they leave, I’m going back to his room and getting onto his laptop.
I’m going to prove who he is, who hereallyis, once and for all.
Chapter 38
Nina
This time, I don’t have to worry about being quiet or sneaky. As soon as my family leaves the suite, I make a beeline for Uncle Aaron’s room. My blood is pumping hot with the shame of what just happened, but also something else.Anger.I am so, so angry about what he just did to me. About everything he’s done to me.
