Homeless

Chapter 21

"You're only twenty eight," I said. "You could always pick up writing again. Besides, who says you need to have your life all figured out by a certain age?"

"Society," he mumbled.

"Yeah, well, society will probably tell you that you should distance yourself from me, yet here you are." I shook my head. "If nothing else, know that you've saved me and Mark. Two lives, at least. Most people can't say they did something like this in their lifetime."

"Hmm, wise words," he said, giving me a warm look I had no idea what to do with.

"Of course," I said flippantly. "I am wise."

He chuckled, shaking his head. We made steady progress with the ice cream, but the air was heavy with unasked questions. We hadn't really had a chance to sit down and talk like this since the accident.

I knew it was coming, but my stomach still clenched when Nathaniel's tone turned serious. "Daphne?"

I stuck the last of the ice cream in my mouth and licked the spoon. He was looking at me. I didn't want to meet his eyes. "Mhm?"

"How old were you? The first time?"

I sighed and put the spoon in the empty carton next to Nathaniel's. "Why do you want to know?"

"You don't have to tell me. I just..." He broke off with a weary breath. "I feel so angry. The idea of you having to go through that."

I glanced at him. He was glaring at the coffee table, running a hand down his face, the other was white-knuckled.

He was angry for me. He cared, even though it had happened long before we met. He cared.

"I don't remember anything prior to the age of seven." I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the sudden chill. "So I don't really know when was the first time... But there was no age limit back there. The client is king. With enough money, they could have anyone. And since there were children then..."

I closed my eyes against the onslaught of memories, swallowing the bile in my throat.

"I guess I was lucky, in a way," I said, opening my eyes. "I had Ester, and she made sure I wasn't taken as much. But that only meant another kid went through it instead of me..."

I kept my gaze firmly on the French doors. The curtains were pulled, and I suddenly wanted to be outside in an open space despite the cold. I stayed put, my body frozen.

"Ester is the Danish woman you told me about, right?"

I nodded, remembering her pale gray eyes, translucent skin and white blonde hair. She'd been other worldly. A woman whose beauty cursed her to become the most sought after Dispensable in the House.

"She was like an older sister. She didn't grow up there. She was trafficked in from Europe from what she told me. She took care of me and later, of Mark. But even she couldn't shelter me for long.

"I think forgetting my memories was a blessing. After that, I learned how to deal with it until it ended. As I got older, I learned to shut off my emotions. Sometimes it felt like I was detached from my own body."

I felt wetness on my hand. I looked down. A tear had dropped. I didn't even realize I was crying. I wiped my cheeks and took a deep breath. But tears kept flowing down despite my efforts.

Nathaniel scooted closer to me. His movements were slow and hesitant as he put his arm around my shoulder.

His warmth felt good. It anchored me to the present moment, a physical reminder that I was no longer there, that I had survived that hell. Perhaps not whole, perhaps not entirely sane, but I had survived nonetheless.