Back To Where I've Never Been

Untitled Part 12

"You are a wealthy young lady now, Violet, and stand to inherit much more when you come of age. Not to mention your now blood-ties to our family, something envied by more than a few. We need to know if he has any hold over you, legal or otherwise." Damn. It was a good reason. I should have seen this coming. One look at the lawyer and I already knew a simple "he's got no claim on me" would suffice. He needed to know in plain, legal, terms that my sire would be no trouble.

So, I pulled into myself, retreating away from everything that caused me pain. Numbing my emotions and thoughts was the only way to speak that name. The only way I could tell them what they needed to know.

"Jerry Lange." I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper, completely devoid of inflection, robotic.

"Is in jail. He will be in jail for a long time. He has no legal claim on me since he waived his right before I was even born, while in jail." I mutter the last part bitterly. I didn't realize my eyes were shut until I feel Pop brush away a few of the tears that managed to escape, Adrien cleared his throat, I couldn't see him but his tone spoke of how uncomfortable he was that he had to ask me that question.

"Thank you for telling us, Violet. I will look into it now that I have a name-"

"No." I bit out, opening my eyes and staring straight into his soft brown ones. Pity. Ugh, I hated that kind of look, it spoke of a misjudgment of my character for something weaker than it was. I turned to Grandmother, some part of me rejoicing that her eyes held nothing but a fierce protectiveness, and a little bit of pride. She was proud of me, this amazing woman who ran a multi-national company without blinking an eye or sacrificing her family. That alone bolstered me to continue what I had started to say, I turned back to Adrien, whose eyes had blessedly returned to the professional mask of an attorney used to emotional situation like this, or at least I had to assume he was used to them.

"No. I need to tell you. You should hear it from me, the records won't even say all of it, they struck a lot from the official reports to hide our identity." Pops hand clenches over mine, I knew he caught on to what I was implying but I had to say it, once. I would tell them once and then never again, I would go back to pretending I was birthed from sunshine and anonymous sperm. Pretending my life with Amalia wasn't built on the foundation of terror and darkness.

"Jerry was not a nice man, but not an outwardly evil man either. He and his wife passed all of the inspections required of Foster Families in Minnesota. They had no children of their own, but hinted they would be open to adoption. However, they only took in teenagers, at first anyway. By the time my mother was placed with them at thirteen, there was another little girl there, Kira. Kira was only six."

I stop, allowing myself the moment of weakness, I stare at the wall above Adrien's head, admiring the beautiful watercolor adorning it. The muted colors of the pastoral scene sooth me enough to start the next part,

"When Amalia was there only a few months, Jerry took her virginity. Told her he would do the same to Kira if she didn't keep quiet."

"She was not stupid, knew it was only a matter of time before he started abusing Kira or another girl. So, she went to the police." Again, Pops clutches my hand the pressure is enough to sting but I don't dare to say anything or look at him, the righteous anger rolling off him in waves hits my senses even though I'm still staring at the watercolor perched above the shiny dome of Adrien's head.

"Problem was she was a foster kid, and by the time she could report anything there was nothing to gain from a rape kit. No evidence meant it was his word over hers. They didn't believe her. Not only that but Jerry convinced her case worker and his wife that she was just 'acting out' and he wanted her to stay with them so they could 'show her a loving family life" Bile rises in my throat. After I had stumbled upon the secret of my birth, I had read every file, every public record I could get my hands on, and some not-so- public records that were way too easy to access. Those words would haunt me, the notes the caseworker made when suggesting Amalia stay placed in the Lange house.