Page 73 of A Light in the Darkness
It takes my brain a long moment to work out what exactly that’s saying… too long. When I look back up at Remy, he nods. “Claire, meet your father.”
There are too many questions I can’t even begin to entertain, so I push them out of my head, staring at the man who is my alleged father… or rather, the man who fucked my mother. I don’t see any similarities—he’s tall with naturally tanned skin and a straight nose that’s clearly never felt the impact of a pissed off woman.
“Claire.” Victor smiles, though I see that his lips twitch on the way. The man looks like he’s about to faint at any second.
I turn to Addie, whose wide eyes are pleading for me to help her. She’s a severe woman—beautiful in all the right ways, but she never radiated warmth. She wasn’t ever there for me; she was justthere.
“I think we should let Addison explain.” Remy says, nodding at Victor who removes his hand from his wife’s face, letting her gasp ring through the stale room.
“Help me!” She pleads. “They’re crazy! They’re making this shit up! Let me go!”
I’m not sure what it says about me that I was more willing to believe a sadist who chained me up in his basement was my father than I am to believe Senator Massarini is, but I guess that was the wrong question the whole time.
I shattered when Evan Ludlow had told me in the same breath that he could be my father, and that that wouldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted with me. It’s a depravity I’ve never let myself think of; a horror unlike anything I could fathom. I’ve long ago accepted that some people will do whatever they have to for the sake of power and pleasure, taking it wherever they find it. But his willingness to take things that far had been too much.
Hearing that Victor could be my father—that heis—should be a relief. Instead, it just leaves me with more pain. Does that make Addison my mother? Did she get rid of me twenty-one years ago and then keep an eye on me from afar because she didn’t want a child?
I remember some mention of the senator’s wife and children. I wasn’t listening entirely, but wasn’t she pregnant at the wake?
“Explain.” I tell her, because it’s all I can manage. My throat doesn’t ache as bad anymore, but my chest does, and it’s taking up too much presence to force more air into my lungs.
“I don’t know what they’re talking about!” She cries, jerking in an attempt to get away from where the senator is holding her still against him. Blood seeps out onto the rope that’s wound around her black pantsuit, and while it looks like a fair amount, I gather the wound isn’t terribly serious.
“You know exactly what we’re talking about. Tell Claire all about how you cut her from her mother’s womb and left her to die. Tell Victor how you helped orchestrate his girlfriend’s kidnapping, her murder, and the sale of their children.”
Victor’s lips are trembling, and I can’t tell if he’s holding back a sob or a snarl. He looks feral in the worst way, and I’m glad he dropped the knife, because I recognize the look of a man with nothing to lose.
But my brain, fragmented as it is, grazes over the horrific crimes Remy just claimed her to be responsible for, latching onto one word.
Children.
Part of me thinks maybe Addie is right, that the two of them are sharing a state of psychosis right now. Folie a deux is a real phenomenon, after all.
But then I remember that I’m probably the most fucked up person in the room…
That is, untiltheywalk in.
Chapter forty-four
Remy
I don’t know if it’s genius or madness that I brought Wes here with Violet, but I suppose it’s all the same in the end. There’s too much riding on tonight, too many threads that need tied together. The only way I can see for Claire to heal is to know what she needs to heal from… and maybe to take justice into her own hands.
I don’t know how to delicately tell someone that they have an identical twin that they’ve never known about, any more than I know how to tell a man that he doesn’t just have one daughter that was stolen from him. But maybe I should have tried to give them some kind of preparation—Victor looks like he may keel over when he turns to take in the new arrivals. I don’t care about him right now, though.
My focus is on Claire, who stands stock still, like she’s afraid to breathe.
Wrapping an arm around her, I guide her a step forward, to where Wes is standing with his wife. Oddly enough, he looks nervous. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so worried about Claire, whose lips move without forming words.
“This is her?” Violet asks, dubious. As if they aren’t the spitting fucking image of one another.
“Claire,” I tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, keeping my voice soothing. “Meet your sister. Violet.”
A moment passes before anyone breaks the silence, which is thick and tense. “Sister?” The senator sputters, coming around to take them both in as they take in one another.
“Twins.” Wes confirms, though he doesn’t look to Victor until he asks, “Those run in your family, don’t they, senator?”
Claire and Violet appraise one another without speaking, and I don’t know if it’s shock or resentment or just fear that keeps them from reacting to one another.
