You call this fate?

Chapter 24

It felt so good to finally get the word out.

I didn't look up, but I already knew what expression they had on their faces, especially the Rodwells. The look of disgust in their eyes swam before my vision. And why shouldn't it be disgust? Hadn't there been disgust and contempt in the eyes of those who came to the little cute villa? Yes, there had. Even as they hit me and made me do what they wanted, even as they bend me to their will, there had always been revulsion there. Even as they told me I would love it.

There was absolute silence in the room. Why the bloody hell did they have to pretend? It would have made me feel much better if they had come out good and proper. But no, they would rather dance around the facts. And so I had danced around the facts too. I would happily lie to people who didn't know about my past, but with people who did know? I would rather it all out on the table, and to hell with it.

Finally, it was out on the table.

Tasha put her arm around me and squeezed. She knows everything, a delusional, hopeful voice whispered in my ear, she knows everything and she doesn't hate you. Maybe he won't—

Stop it! He knew! He always knew and he never mentioned it. Why would he do that? Why?

Maybe he just wanted to spare your feeling? It's not like you're actually reacting very reasonably now.

I really needed to stop talking to this voice.

"Miss Mahal?" Mr. Rodwell's voice was uncertain again. I really, really, did not like that tone on him.

"You told me you would help me with the fear. That there was something that could be done to serve both your purpose and mine. Right?" I wove my fingers together and looked with interest at the interlocked digits.

"Yes."

"And my family lives here until that's done?"

"That's the plan."

"Then just tell me what it is you need to know."

"Well, Miss Mahal, the fact is that we need to know everything," Christopher said. He sounded like he wanted to die. I smiled to myself, with no humor whatsoever. "And after that's done, we might want you to identify Zayn for us."

"How does that help you?"

"Maybe we should go one at a time with this," he suggested. "You tell us your story and we tell you ours. How's that?"

I snorted. "It's awful. But I don't have a choice do I?"

No one answered. Tasha pressed me closer.

I sighed. "Alright, then. Where do you want me to start?"

"Er...From the beginning?"

"What, from my birth?" I joked.

No one seemed to appreciate that. I glanced up to find them looking at each other with worried eyes. Great, now they worry about my sanity. No problem. I worried about my sanity too, all the time. Maybe we should all get together and make a Zara-is-insane club. I would be the leader, of course. We could meet weekly—

No. Stop! I squeezed my eyes shut. What was I doing? Why couldn't I concentrate?

I had to concentrate. Finally, after so many years of darkness, there was light at the end of the tunnel. I couldn't take a detour. Not now.

"Okay, then..." I said, fidgeting. Then I suddenly straightened. "Wo-would you mind if I just lie down on the couch?" There was desperation in my voice. My hands shook. "I-I will feel much better that way. That's how the psychiatrist used to make me do it. Remember?" I asked Tasha.