Page 90 of Uncrowned

Tears raced down my face as I pleaded to her with my eyes.

“Why do you think that?”

“I can’t get this one part of our conversation out of my mind. I was reading a book at the time. It was about an adventurer named Poppy. I told him how much I loved her freedom and that I wish I could go on adventures like that. I asked him once, ‘do you ever feel like you want to run away or disappear’? He got quiet for a long time. Then, he asked, ‘do you really want to disappear?’” I sobbed. “I think that was the last time I talked to him. I was in a rush for dinner, so I never answered his question. It wasn’t much longer after that I was taken.” Harder, I sobbed. “I did this. I never thought—he was so nice to me on the phone. He listened.”

The agent’s hand came to rest on top of mine.

“What do you remember from that night?”

I sniffled, trying to calm the tidal wave of tears that so easily left me.

“My father… he’d hurt me again. This time was different. I could barely walk. Barely move. I think he might have fractured a rib or two.” My hand lifted to my face. “He’d never beat me that badly, but that night, I told him I didn’t want to marry. I was angry that he wanted to get an introduction for me to yet another old man. I just—I wanted freedom to love.” A desperate sound left me, as did more lies. “He snapped and went crazy. My mother got home shortly after. When she saw the damage, she gave me some pills to take for the pain. That’s when I fell asleep.

I awoke a few hours later. I wasn’t sure why at first. I thought I heard something. When I tried to get up, I was really dizzy. I managed to get to the bathroom where I became ill. It was when I was headed back to bed that I heard heavy footsteps along with… sounds. Odd sounds.”

Biting into my bottom lip, I tried to stop it from trembling. The adrenaline-laced anxiety was coming back at the memories.

“It was dark as I went down the stairs, but then I noticed my father’s office light was on. The door was open. The closer I got, the more I realized there was something ahead in the dark hallway. Like…” my hands moved in an arc. “My mother. I saw her clearly just as I got level with my father’s office door. That’s when I saw the masked man for the first time. He was by my father’s desk, and so was my dad. He yelled at me to run.” More tears. “I couldn’t.”

“Breathe, Ms. Taylor. It’s alright. What happened, then?”

I swallowed hard. “My father, he was beaten so badly he was barely recognizable. He had blood covering his chest. He’d been stabbed. I saw that as he collapsed. I ran then, but the masked man caught up to me almost instantly. He put something over my nose and mouth. Sometime after that is when I woke up in the cement room.”

Slowly, her head nodded.

“There’s not much to tell after that. Every day was the same. He came in. Sometimes he’d just watch me. Other times he’d… touch me. We’d fight. A lot. He seemed to like me fighting him. And he raped me. He said I’d never leave. That I was his, and I’d be there until I died. Which… sometimes he hinted would be soon. It never made sense. He wanted me, but he wanted to hurt me.”

“But you escaped.”

“Yes. He disappeared a lot. Mostly during the day, which made me think he had some sort of job. He’d come back at night, or sometimes he’d be gone for days at a time. I had food in a fridge down there, so I never really ran out of what I needed. But… that day was different. I heard him arguing with someone upstairs. Maybe he was on the phone, I don’t know. But he said he was tired of whatever they were doing. He hung up and came down, where I immediately knew he wanted to fight. We did. But then the phone rang again. He rushed from the room after that. So fast he forgot to bolt the door. I waited a little, and then I ran.”

“This house⁠—”

My head shook. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to remember. It was… dark there. Like…a backyard maybe. I went through some bushes. I was running so fast but trying to stay hidden. Houses and shops blurred by. I felt so disoriented. I wasn’t even sure where I was until I suddenly saw the house by the bakery. That’s when I knew I wasn’t far from home.”

“I see.”

Agent Marchase sat silently, seeming to go over what I told her.

“You never saw this man without his mask?”

“Never. Not with my eyes. He slept with me one night, and I felt his face. It was beyond dark in that room. All I could do was feel.”

“And what did you feel?”

The relief that I wasn’t hooked up to a polygraph had me sitting up straighter.

“He had stubble. Maybe a light beard. It was rough to the touch. His nose seemed straight. Maybe slightly crooked. I remember pausing because something felt off about it. Eyes. Hair. It was short. Like… a buzz cut or something.”

“Interesting.”

She forced a smile.

“That’s all I know.”

“Thank you for telling me. I know it was hard for you to relive that. Let’s go ahead and get you to your new home. It’s only temporary until we figure out how to proceed, but at least you’ll have a bed, and you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you. I’m so very tired.”