Page 61

Frank makes a low sound of disgust. “They’re unholy. Violent. Crass. If they’ve already set their eyes on you, they won’t stop.”

Heat prickles the back of my neck.

I take offense, though not for the reason they would assume. Lack of experience doesn’t equal innocence. I’ve spent years reading love scenes in books, imagining the kinds of things a man could do to me. And I recognize the way my thighs tightened when Edwin held me against the wall.

“I’ll be careful.”

“It’s not enough to be careful,” Frank says. “Those are bad people. They don’t stop when they want something. If they want you, they’ll take you.”

He means to repulse me, but longing stirs inside me, traitorous to the warnings.

Evelyn strokes the back of my hand, her fingers brushing my skin as if she can’t stop feeling its softness. The comfort is undercut by the uneasy sense of being observed.

“If you ever feel unsafe, you come to me,” Frank says. “I know some important people around here, and we’ll handle them. Okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

But even as I say it, I know he can’t protect me from the man who threatens to use my body however he wants.

None of us speak. The television screen has gone black enough to show our reflections. Three figures sitting together like a family.

Evelyn still has one hand over mine.

I think about my mother crying on the news, grief tangled with performance, and the way Evelyn held me without hesitation. How desperately I want to believe in that embrace.

Maybe that’s how people end up trapped. Not by the fear of never leaving, but the relief of being kept.

“You poor thing,” Evelyn says, studying me as if I’m some fragile creature she’s found injured on the roadside. “You’ve had such a terrible shock.”

I only nod.

Frank leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “You don’t owe them anything if you don’t want to go back.”

That’s a dangerous thought. Because I don’t know who I am when I’m not belonging to someone. My parents decided who I was for so long that sometimes freedom feels like falling endlessly.

Evelyn squeezes my hand. “You belong here with us.”

My heart is full because I want that. I want to belong so badly I might mistake it for safety. I might let it wrap around me completely before realizing it’s simply another locked room with prettier walls.

But when I look at their faces, there is only kindness.

And in me, only exhaustion.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Evelyn smiles and brushes my hair back from my face. “Why don’t you go get some rest? Dinner will be ready in a while.”

I nod again and rise, afraid my legs might give out if I stand too fast.

At the mouth of the hallway, I pause for one more look at the family that saved me, needing to make sure this is real.

Frank is already typing on his phone. Evelyn’s eyes are still on me. Her expression is maternal, but watchful too. Measuring.

As soon as I notice it, her smile widens.

I go to my room where it’s pleasantly quiet, but I’m still humming with everything the day spit out.

I sit on the bed and stare at my hands. They’re steady now. My body must feel safe.