Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
"Okay," she agrees. She stares at me for a moment, her brows furrowing like she's deep in thought, and then her expression clears, her shoulders going back as resolve fills her honey eyes. "Stay right here. I have something for you." She pulls out of my arms and then hurries through the living room and down the hall.
I rearm the security system and lean against the wall, waiting for her to return.
She reappears a few seconds later, her notebook in her hands. She walks right up to me, stopping when we're no more than a few inches apart. "I thought writing all of this would be easier than telling you out loud what they did to me." She takes a deep breath and then holds the notebook out to me. "I want to tell you everything, but I think you should have this anyway."
"Why, conejita?" I ask, looking between her and the notebook.
"Because I don't want to be afraid anymore," she whispers, holding my gaze. "I don't want to give them that power." She shrugs a shoulder. "I want to be the person you see when you look at me, the brave one who fights back and stands up when it matters. I think it matters now."
"Faith–"
"You said I'm safe, and I believe you, but other people aren't safe because of them and the things they do. If I can help you put a stop to that, I want to do it, Octavio. If Agent Sanders can do the right thing by coming here to face me, I think I need to be brave enough to do the right thing, too. If you have to use me and what they did to me to bring them down, I want you to have what you need to ensure you bring them all down."
"You're sure?"
She nods, not looking away.
"Then that's what we'll do," I promise, taking the notebook from her hands and then tugging her forward until she's in my arms too. "But you don't have to tell me a damn thing about what they did to you until you're ready. We have time."
She tilts her head back to frown up at me. "I want to do this, Octavio."
"I know you do, but I also see the shame in your eyes, Faith." I brush her hair away from her face with one hand, smiling gently to let her know I understand. "You try so hard to hide it from me, but I see it there. When you no longer feel that shame, that's when you tell me."
She studies me for a moment, her frown deepening. "I don't understand you," she mumbles. "I offer to tell you everything, and you tell me no."
"I'm not saying no. I'm saying not yet," I explain gently. "Some part of you still doesn't trust me entirely. Some part of you still fears speaking those words out loud to me. Some part of you believes I'll turn away from you. When you no longer think that, that's when you tell me."
Her expression clears, steely resolve firming her chin. "You don't understand. You're the first person I've ever trusted, Octavio. You make me feel like I matter, and I've never mattered before. You're a good, honorable man. That's what I—" she hesitates for a split second "—admire about you."
"Then what is it? What are you so afraid of?"
She pulls away, pacing in a restless circle for a moment before she spins to face me again. "I still love my mom. Even though I know I shouldn't, I do. Even though she hurt me and then left me behind, even though I know she doesn't love me and probably doesn't even think about me, part of me still loves her."
"Angel–"
"I know where she is," she blurts, her eyes wide. "I've always known."
I blink, not sure I heard her correctly, and then tears and guilt well in her eyes, and I know I didn't mishear anything. All this time, she's known where her mom is. "Faith, conejita…"
"I already know what you're going to say," she whispers, wringing her hands together. "I don't blame you. I've said the same things to myself for five years. The things they did to me, the people they hurt to punish me…I could have told them where she was and made it stop, but I didn't. I wanted…I wanted…" She stumbles, trying to find words. But she doesn't have to say what she wanted. I already know.
"You wanted your mom to love you."
She deflates, her shoulders slumping. Tears spill down her cheeks as she nods miserably. "I know it was wrong, but part of me thought if I never told them where she was, maybe one day she'd forgive me for whatever I did to make her hate me so much. That's what I'm ashamed of, Octavio. That's my big secret. I wanted my mom to love me, so I spent five years in hell. I let them hurt other people. I could have stopped it. All I had to do was tell Nikolai where she was at. But I didn't. I didn't want her to die," she whispers. "I still don't want her to die."