The officer sighs, and rubs his forehead. “You girls aren’t going to give me anything on him, are you?”

“There’s nothing to give. He was good to us,” I say.

He stares around the group before standing. “You’re all booked to speak to my psychologist; which is part of protocol. Emelyn, if you’re free, you can come with me now.”

I frown, but I know there’s no way to get out of it. I have to go. I stand, sighing. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Tell me about Lanthie,” Mary, the psychologist asks.

I stare at her. She’s older, with greying hair and big brown eyes. She’s lovely, and patient, and willing to hear everything we have to say.

“She was gorgeous, sweet, funny, and adorable,” I whisper, my voice too broken to show itself.

“You blame yourself for her death?”

I feel my eyes harden. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” she says, leaning back. “It’s human nature to blame ourselves for things that are out of our control.”

<. class="calibre_13">“I could have stopped it.”

“How?”

I grind my teeth together. “I could have screamed, I could have fought, I could have done something...”

“Maybe, but who’s to say it wouldn’t have happened another day, when you weren’t there?”

She sounds just like William.

“Can we talk about something else?” I croak.

“Of course. Tell me about William.”

“He’s my everything.”

“Do you want to elaborate?” she encourages.

“No.”

“Did William ever hurt you?”

She’s tricking me, just like the police officers. I look her right in the eye when I answer. “Everything William did, was for us. He changed his world to fit us in.”

“Do you think William’s actions were all pure?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think William loves you?”

I hesitate. “William cares about all of us.”

“That’s not what I asked, Emelyn.”

“I don’t know if he loves me,” I bark.

“Ok, that’s ok. I think we’ve done enough for the day.”

I stand, not letting her finish. I walk outside and burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears.

I want him back.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

WILLIAM

Week Two

“I know you’re in there, Will!” Ben barks, banging his fists on the door over and over.

He’s been doing it for a full hour.

I slide my chair back, tired, sick of putting up with his yelling. I storm down to the front door and I swing it open. He’s standing at the door, panting, his face red with rage.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I stare at him.

“Don’t start the silent treatment with me, Will,” he growls. “Why didn’t you tell me about them?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“You purchased Thirteen girls!”

“There’s no proof of that,” I say, my voice deadpan.

“Fuck, Will, I’m your Brother. You don’t need to hide this from me.”

“There’s nothing to hide, Benjamin,” I growl.

He brings his fist up and slams it into the door. “Stop doing this, you don’t have to hide from me.”

I glare at him. “Why are you here, Ben?”

“I’m here because you’re slowly rotting in here. You’re not talking to anyone; you’re barely attending meetings. You’re sinking, Will.”

“I’m fine.”

He raises his fist, and he hits me. It comes as a shock, and it’s only when blood pours into my mouth that it registers. I turn to him, my gaze livid.

“That was a mistake,” I bark.

“Why,” he roars. “Because it dragged some emotion out of you.”

I don’t speak; I just stand there, panting, my chest filling with rage.

“You were using slaves.”

I feel rage fill my body. “They. Weren’t. Slaves.”

“Then what were they?”

“I owe you nothing, Benjamin!”

He flinches. “It’s always the way, isn’t it? Constantly blaming me for leaving you when you were younger.”

“I did not say that.”

He steps closer. “You think it, though. Don’t you?”

“No.”

“Stop lying to me, Will. You’ve always blamed me for that,” he jerks a finger at my eye. “I wasn’t there. I was the golden child. I got sent away and you were left with our fucked up Mother.”

I flinch again. My fists clench so tightly my fingers ache. “Don’t,” I warn.

“Why? Because it might bring up something you don’t want to face?”

My body begins to tremble.

“Admit it, Will. You didn’t tell me about the girls, because you’re still angry with me. A part of you always will be.”

He’s pushing me too far.

“I let them hurt you, I let you suffer. Admit it!” he roars.

“You’re right,” I bellow. “I do fucking blame you. I shouldn’t have been left behind. I shouldn’t have had my eye burned. I shouldn’t have had to face Dad’s anger. I shouldn’t have had to be Mom’s carer. I shouldn’t have had to be second best.”