Chapter Sixteen #2
A few minutes later, all of us were seated at the table again in a scene that was almost comically uncomfortable.
There was me, the outsider, with a request they had gathered to hear.
Three sets of twins, all watching me with expressions I was having difficulty interpreting.
There was no trust, but a few of them seemed to be looking at me with compassion.
Some were controlled blank slates. Zachary looked impatient and edgy.
Meanwhile, what kept everyone in check was the presence of Gene and Leslie.
There was only so long we could talk about what all of them had been up to and pretend I wasn’t the reason they were all there.
Laying both hands on the table, I rose to my feet. “First, let me say that I appreciate being allowed to be here today. You told me you never wanted to see me again and I would have honored that if there wasn’t something very important I need to discuss with you.”
Dylan surprised me by saying, “I said that before I understood your situation.”
My situation? I hadn’t told anyone but Sara that I was intending to break free.
Thane’s voice was smooth. “We realize that you feel loyalty to the Gravestones and that reading the journals must have been confusing for you.”
Jesse shook his head. “What they did to you wasn’t right.”
Instinctively, I took a step back, nearly knocking the chair over behind me. “I’m not here to discuss my relationship with my parents. This is about—”
“He doesn’t know?” Scott asked.
“That’s pretty fucking clear,” Zachary snapped.
Gene waved a finger at Zachary. “Watch your language, son, my wife is in the room.”
Leslie put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Gene. This is emotional for them.”
Mark interjected, “This has to be done delicately.”
“I suggest we let him tell us what he wants before we decide how delicate or not to be,” Zachary ground out.
My hands shook slightly, but I kept them firmly on the table.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about me or my family.
I’m sure a lot of it hasn’t been good. I was not an easy child to raise.
I’ll admit to struggling with mental health for a long time, but I’m in a good place right now and I think some separation from them would benefit me. ”
Leslie’s eyes filled with tears, and she raised a hand to her mouth. “My heart is breaking right now.”
I frowned. “It’s not that I hate them. Or wish them ill. But ever since reading the journals and knowing that they were involved in what happened to all of you . . . it changed the way I saw them. I need to figure out who I am without them.”
“Yes, you do,” Zachary said emphatically.
Mark shook his head. “That’s not helping, Zachary.”
Scott leaned closer. “They placed you in an institution, didn’t they?”
Shame rocked through me. “It was for my own good.”
Jesse’s hands fisted. “I could not hate them more.”
I raised a hand. “I appreciate the sentiment, but my childhood isn’t what I’m here to talk about.
I’ve met someone—someone I can imagine spending the rest of my life with.
And I’m . . . concerned about how my family will handle the situation when they realize I’m pulling away.
If this were only about me, I’d feel like I could deal with whatever they try to do. But I can’t let them hurt her . . .”
Gene pounded a fist on the table. “Son, you and your friend are safe now. I promise you that.” He looked his son in the eye. “Mark, tell him.”
Mark looked across at his twin. Dylan nodded. The others did as well.
Zachary leapt to his feet. “As good as that sounds, I can’t sit back and not tell him. Enimton. You’ve read the journals. You know how sick Simmons was.”
“Yes.” I blinked. “Do you blame my family for that? Me by default? If so, you don’t have to help me, just protect her.”
Scott stood and came to stand beside me. “Enimton, there’s something we need to tell you, and it won’t be easy to hear.”
“Ashen,” Gene corrected.
“Dad, we’ll deal with that part later,” Mark suggested in a gentle tone.
After looking around at the mixture of concerned and pained expressions, I decided it was best to let them voice whatever it was they thought I needed to hear. Once that was out of the way, we could focus on my reason for being there. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
I expected Zachary to blurt something out, but instead he looked to Thane as if for advice.
Thane took a visibly deep breath then seemed at a loss for what to say.
Jesse shook his head.
Even Dylan appeared uncomfortable.
A dread began to spiral through my gut.
Scott was the first to speak. “We didn’t know about you or your situation the first time we met you, but since then we’ve learned about the Gravestones and their affiliation with Simmons.”
I looked around the room again. “I’ve read the journals. You’re not telling me anything I don’t know. In fact, I just told you that my opinion of my family has been damaged by what I learned.”
Leslie stood, came over, and took my hand in both of hers. “What you need to know is that you never had mental health issues. That you’re still here and still a good person is actually a testament to how strong you are.”
I glanced down at her hands before checking the expressions of all in the room again. “I don’t understand.”
Zachary growled, “Oh, for God’s sake, everything you need to know is in your name. If you flip it around it spells NOT MINE.”
Enimton.
Not mine.
What kind of parents would name their child that?
“I’m not a Gravestone?” I asked in both horror, relief, and more horror.
Leslie’s grip on my hand tightened. “No. You’re another of Simmons’s placements.”
What?
No.
And yet . . . yes.
Yes, it made sense.
I swayed on my feet before sinking back to my seat. “I’m not a Gravestone.”
“Correct,” Gene said. “But look around. You’re also not alone. Simmons played God with the lives of all these boys.”
Flashes of the beatings I received for the smallest of mistakes slammed through me.
All those years of trying to please my parents . . .
Not my parents.
Being sent away.
Isolated.
Medicated.
Being told I was being hidden away for my own good.
“It was all a lie. They didn’t do any of it to protect me. They did it to silence me.”
“Yes.” One of Leslie’s hands moved to the top of my head and hugged me to her side. I didn’t return the hug. Lost in my thoughts I was numb to her touch.
Somewhere in the distance, Thane said, “We should have sought you out when we found out. I take responsibility for our inaction. I’ve been cautioning everyone that exposing our secrets might endanger our families, but I was wrong. You deserved the truth.”
“It’s only been a few months,” Jesse defended.
“That doesn’t make our silence right,” Thane said.
Scott asked, “Are you okay?”
Me?
Okay?
No, that’s now how I’d describe my inner cascade of despair, disappointment, and disgust. “There is not an inch of me that’s okay.”
No one spoke for a long span.
In a hushed tone, I said, “I was never dangerous.”
“Of course you weren’t,” Leslie cooed.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Zachary growled, “the woman who adopted me was also put into an institution because she thought someone was following us—and she was right.”
His words circled like flies at a picnic. Annoying. Pesky. Impossible to ignore.
“How is that supposed to make me feel better?” I tossed back.
Zachary shrugged. “I’m just saying that if you’re pissed, it’s justified. And you’re not the only one who suffered.”
Mark came to stand beside his mother. “What we’re trying to say is that we’ll help you. The Gravestones might have had the upper hand with you in the past, but the people in this room and the connections we all have—they’d be fools to even contact you again.”
I straightened my head off Leslie and gently pushed her back from me. My head was spinning as I tried to make sense of what had been done to me and who I was if I wasn’t a Gravestone.
“Am I a twin?” I asked.
“You weren’t mentioned in the journals,” Zachary said. “But maybe not all of the twins were.”
Not mine.
Roland isn’t my brother.
No wonder he was the favorite.
He’s theirs.
I’m . . .
I must have whispered the last part, because Gene said, “You’re Ashen. And with our help, you’ll start over, and in time, you’ll heal.”
“Ashen,” I said the name Sara had given me.
Sara.
I looked around frantically. “My reason for coming here hasn’t changed. I’ll be okay, but you need to promise me you’ll help keep her safe from them. I can’t let anything happen to her.”
“We’ll keep her safe,” Thane swore. “We promise.”
“What’s her name?” Jesse asked.
“Sara,” I said.
“Sara what?” he nudged.
Bile rose in my throat as I realized I didn’t have a last name to give them. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know the last name of the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?” Zachary asked.
Leslie said, “Zachary, be kind, he’s in shock.”
“I haven’t known her that long and for a while we weren’t using our real names. We came up with pen names for each other. She chose Ashen R.Y.S.E. for me. Ashen like ashes and Ryse like a phoenix after a fire.”
“Sara,” Dylan echoed her name. “Zachary, the FBI agent we met a few months ago. Wasn’t her name Sara?”
“Sara Linde,” Zachary supplied.
“No,” Mark said. “It has to be a coincidence.”
A coincidence?
The journals.
The ugly truth about Simmons.
About the people I thought were my family.
Helen . . . sweet Helen. She wouldn’t lie to me.
Would she?
No, why would an FBI agent pretend to be a romance author?
To ask me questions I wouldn’t answer if I knew who she really was?
I described her hair and eye color.
When Dylan nodded and looked at me with pity in his eyes, I turned and threw up next to my chair. Bent over and kept throwing up.
Leslie sidestepped the mess, but kept a hand on my back, rubbing it as I imagine a caring parent would a sick child. “It’s okay, Ashen. It’s all going to be okay.”
I heard her.
But I didn’t believe her.