3. Ophelia
OPHELIA
I slam my bedroom door behind me and turn the old-fashioned key in the lock. It snaps into place with a satisfying click. Being in this place is like living in an old castle. They don’t even have keycards for the rooms.
I press my back to the solid wooden door and heave air in and out of my lungs. My heart thumps, the beat of it pounding in my ears. I close my eyes and focus on regaining control of my breath. Sweat dampens my hairline, and my white dress clings to my spine. I’m chilled now, and I shiver.
Gradually, everything slows, and I’m able to think clearly again.
The first place my thoughts go to is Cain Lockwood.
To say he’d filled out would be an understatement.
He must have quadrupled in size. He’d been a skinny kid, tall but lanky.
Self-conscious in that way pre-teens are, like he never quite knew what to do with all his arms and legs.
His family had been so different from mine.
Where my parents have always been supportive and loving, even despite everything we’ve been through, his father was always cold and hard.
I cover my face with my hands and let out a long breath. He’s here, at the same college as me. What am I supposed to do about that? I can’t avoid him forever.
The truth is I’m scared. I’m not the same girl I was back then. I’m sure she’s still inside me, somewhere, screaming to get out, but I can’t let that happen.
The things I’d been taught for years about how I’d spend eternity burning in a lake of fire and brimstone if I had so much as a single impure thought haven’t left me.
When I’d lain eyes on Cain, the way my heart had flipped, I’d known the possibility of keeping those thoughts at bay would be nearly impossible.
Being near him was dangerous, not only for me physically, but for my immortal soul.
My therapist told me the things I’d been taught weren’t true, but no matter how much people try to convince me, there’s always this little voice in the back of my mind whispering…
but what if it is? The thoughts terrify me.
Years spent sitting daily in the meeting room, with him at the front, teaching us exactly how we should behave, how we should dress, how we should think, couldn’t be washed away with a year of therapy.
The Prophet never gave gentle lessons. Never kind.
They were always terrifying speeches about blood running down the streets, judgments, and hell, and burning forever.
He made me believe I’d burn for eternity unless I did everything in my power to fight against my true nature.
I might be away from that life now, but those lessons have stayed with me.
A sharp knock comes at the door directly behind me, and I jump. A squeak of terror escapes my lips, and I spin around to face the door, staring at the wood as though I hope a sudden magical power will allow me to see through it.
There’s only one face that comes to mind, and it’s covered in a mask.
How does he know what room I’m staying in? This place is huge. Has someone told him?
“Ophelia?”
But the voice coming from beyond the door isn’t male. I recognize it as belonging to the girl who’d taken me to the party. Camile, the girl who said she’d be a sort of chaperone to me.
I slump with relief. Self-consciously, I rearrange my hair to hide one side of my face and go to the door and unlock it. It isn’t until I’ve got the door partway open that it occurs to me that she might not be alone, but, to my relief, she is.
Camile’s dark eyes are wide with a combination of excitement and confusion. Her cheeks are flushed from chasing after me.
“Are you okay?”
I step back to let her inside. “I think so.”
As soon as she steps inside the room, I close the door and lock it again. She gives me a curious look, but I don’t feel I should have to explain my need to stay safe.
“What happened back there?” she asks. “You took one look at the Preachers and ran off.”
“The Preachers?”
The name makes my blood race with fear. It’s too close to another name I’d feared for so long— him , the Prophet.
“Yes, that’s what Cain, Roman, and Malachi go by. Cain said he knows you. What did he do to make you run like that?”
I don’t even know how to answer that question. I’m not entirely sure myself.
“He didn’t do anything. I-I just panicked.”
She grimaces. “I know they can look a little freaky with those creepy masks they wear, but they tend to keep to themselves. Cain said you knew each other as kids.”
“Yeah, he’s from my hometown, but I haven’t seen him in years.”
“How come? Did he move away?”
I glance down, not wanting to meet her eyes.
The whole reason behind me attending Verona Falls was so I’d learn to spread my wings, overcome some of my fears, and hopefully act more like my peers.
I think it’s like when you have a nervous dog, the trainer puts them with a more confident dog to teach the nervous one how to behave.
Except people don’t have the same non-judgmental hearts as dogs.
No, if everyone here learns what happened to me, they’ll all start talking, and I’ll become even more of a freak than I already am.
Then I realize at least some of the story is going to get around college now. Cain is here, and he knows the first part of what happened, at least.
I clear my throat and go to sit on the edge of my bed. Camile follows, perching next to me.
“When I was twelve years old, I was abducted.”
Her jaw drops and her eyes just about pop out of her head. “What? For how long?”
My cheeks flush. Why should I feel so ashamed when I had nothing to do with what happened? It hadn’t been my fault, but still, I blame myself. If only I hadn’t wandered off that day, I’d have been safe.
“Almost six years.”
I thought she hadn’t been able to look more shocked, but I’d been wrong.
“Six years?” she parrots back at me.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, God, Ophelia, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine. How awful. Please tell me it wasn’t one of those situations where someone takes you and locks you in a basement for all that time, like you read about sometimes.”
I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t like that. I was part of a…community. I lived with them all that time.”
“I can’t imagine that. Did you try to escape at any point?”
Automatically, I raise my hand to touch the scar on my face. “Yes, I did, at first. But we were in the middle of nowhere, and I was just a kid. There was nowhere I could go.”
“Surely someone could have helped you?” Her face twists in sympathy. “Sorry, I’m sounding like I’m being judgmental, and I’m not. I just can’t imagine how awful it must have been.”
“No, they were all in on it. Even the cops in the nearest towns were allegedly in my kidnapper’s pocket.”
“Fucking hell.”
“After a while, I stopped trying to escape,” I admit.
“I think it was easier to just give in than keep fighting it. Years went by, and I kind of forgot about my old life, or at least tried to. But then the leader of the town said I was almost eighteen and it was time we should get married, and that’s when I realized I had to try again. I had to run.”
“How did you get away?” Her voice is breathy with horror.
I twist my hands in my lap and stare down at them.
Recalling that time isn’t easy. “Honestly, it nearly killed me. I left on foot, because we were never allowed to learn to drive. I decided I’d rather die in the wilderness than marry that man.
I took some supplies with me that I’d stolen, and they kept me going, and when they ran out, I foraged berries and drank from rivers.
Even now, I’ve no idea how long I was lost, but I kept going.
Eventually, I came across a road, and a couple who were doing a road trip down through the country picked me up.
" I give a small laugh. “I hid from them at first. I was scared they might take me back to that place. But they saw me hiding in the bushes and coaxed me out.”
“What happened then?” Camile asks, eyes wide at my story.
“They took me to the nearest sheriff’s office. I was able to tell them my real name, and they got in touch with my parents, and, well…here I am.”
I don’t tell her that I sat in the sheriff’s office for more than twenty-four hours without saying a word.
I’d been so convinced they’d take me back even though rationally I knew I was far away from the community’s territory.
I’d wanted to run again, but at that point, I was so weak and half-starved that I hadn’t been in any physical shape to run anywhere.
Mentally and emotionally, I’d been a mess, too. I still am.
“Did they find the man who took you?”
I shake my head. “No. I had no idea where to look. I didn’t even know what direction I’d come from or how long I’d been out there.”
Maybe a part of me hadn’t wanted anyone to find the commune, or the man who’d taken me.
I’d have needed to go with them to confirm they were in the right place, and I hadn’t wanted to have to face him again.
I hadn’t wanted to face anyone else either.
I’m still riddled with guilt at running away.
I’d had friends there—other girls I’d come to think of more as sisters than anything else—and I’d just abandoned them.
There was a possibility my kidnapper had turned to one of them to marry, what with me off the scene, and if that had become one of their fates then it was my fault.
So maybe I’d been deliberately vague when I’d been questioned, or perhaps I’d simply blocked a lot of it out, but the result was that neither the ragtag community, nor the man who’d taken me, had ever been found.
Camile takes my hand, and I resist pulling away. I’m not used to affection from people I barely know.
“God, I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that, Ophelia.”
I offer her a tiny smile. “Thanks.”
“And you and Cain knew each other from before you were taken?”
“Yes, we were friends.” More than friends, I want to say.
Best friends. “He must have moved away while I was still missing, and honestly, I hadn’t really given him much thought until now.
I had so much other shit to deal with, you know, and my life before I’d been taken always felt kind of vague to me, like it had happened to someone else. ”
Until now. Until I saw him, and it had all come rushing back to me like someone had opened a window in my memories.
“I bet he thought about you, though.” She nods as if agreeing with herself.
“The way he took off after you was intense. And you say you and he were friends, so I’d imagine he has.
I get that for you it was different. You went through an awful trauma, but he didn’t.
And you just disappeared from his life. I bet he’s thought about you a lot. ”
I huff a small breath. “I doubt it.”
But, still, I wonder…
Cain used to sneak into my house at night, traversing both our properties and grounds, tapping at my window so I’d know to get up and let him in.
There hadn’t been anything sordid about it; we’d been children.
He’d simply been looking for a safe space, a place to escape, and I’d given it to him.
He’d curl up on the floor with a blanket and sleep there until the first shaft of morning light slatted through the window, then he’d slip out again and return to his own bed.
Most of the time, I hadn’t even noticed him leaving.
But I always felt safer sleeping with him on the floor beside me.
I hadn’t been the one who’d needed protecting back then, but that’s how he’d felt. Like my secret protector.
Poor Cain.
How often had he shown up with a black eye or a split lip?
How often had I spotted the rings of bruises around his wrist?
I’d never said anything about it, though, never brought it up to him.
I hadn’t wanted to embarrass him, and we’d both known there was nothing that could be done about it.
With families like ours, you either got lucky or you didn’t.
And if you hadn’t been lucky enough to have caring parents, you either learned how to deal with it, or you died.
“I can’t believe Cain never found out you’d been brought home again.”
I shrug. “My parents were pretty protective of me at first. They kept everything quiet. Knowing the man who’d taken me was still out there was a huge worry for them.
They thought he might try to take me again, so they kept my return quiet.
I guess everyone hopes he believes I just died out in the wilderness somewhere. ”
It’s true. That’s what my parents hoped. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the truth. He’d have known if I was dead. He’d have sensed it.
“Wow, yeah, of course. That makes sense.”
I bite the inside of my lip and hesitate before saying, “Look, Camile, I’m new here, and I know people are going to find out about what happened to me, especially as Cain is here, but is it okay if you keep the details to yourself? I don’t want everyone to gossip.”
They will anyway, but the less you feed the fire, the quicker it goes out.
“Of course. I won’t say a word, I promise.”
“I appreciate that.”
She stifles a wide yawn with the back of her hand.
“You’re tired,” I say. “I’ll be okay now.”
She doesn’t look convinced, so I fake a yawn myself.
She offers me a sympathetic smile. “I guess I’d better go so we can both get to bed. You’re sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.” I get to my feet, seeing her to the door and unlocking it again.
“You have my number if you need me,” she says.
There’s still concern on her face, and it’s starting to feel oppressive having her here, watching me. I need space to go to pieces.
“I do, thanks.” I don’t want to sound unfriendly, so I smile but keep the words firm. “Good night.”
“Night,” she throws back as she leaves.
I lock the door behind her again and release a breath.
I’m not fine. Not even a little bit. I probably never will be.