Chapter 11
There had been softness once.
I needed to believe that.
Not because it excused him, but because I needed my own story to make sense. I needed to know I had not walked willingly into cruelty with open eyes. I had loved the version of him he showed me, and maybe he had loved me too, in the incomplete way people love what shelters them.
But love without accountability turns into appetite.
And Jackson had been hungry for a long time.
The paramedics helped me stand.
As we moved toward the door, Arthur stepped into my path.
For a moment, the officer stiffened.
But Arthur only held out something small and silver.
My apartment keys.
I stared at them.
They had been missing for two days.
“I found them in Genesis’s desk,” he said.
The words were so quiet I almost missed them.
Genesis made a sharp movement behind him. “Arthur.”
He did not turn around.
His hand shook as he held the keys out to me.
I took them.
“Why were they there?” I asked.
His face crumpled with shame. “I don’t know.”
But he did.
Not all of it, perhaps. But enough.
Genesis stepped closer. “Arthur is confused.”
“No,” Arthur said.
The entire foyer went silent.
He seemed surprised by his own voice. He straightened a little, though it clearly cost him something.
“No,” he repeated. “I am not confused.”
Genesis stared at him, and for the first time since I had known them, I saw fear pass across her face that had nothing to do with police or paperwork.
It was the fear of losing control over someone she had controlled for decades.
Arthur looked at me. “I’m sorry, Elaine.”
I could not answer him.
The paramedics guided me outside.
May you like
The night had turned misty. The grand houses of Briar Hollow Road sat behind iron gates and manicured hedges, their windows glowing softly, hiding whatever sorrows lived inside them. Somewhere down the street, sprinklers ticked across a lawn. A dog barked once and fell silent.
Jackson saw me and stopped talking.
