Page 75 of A Light in the Darkness
“It was a shock to us all when months later she started to swell.” Addison shakes her head. “And an even bigger shock when we found out she wasn’t just carrying one little parasite, but two. Victor hadn’t come back from deployment yet, so when I got a call asking me to deal with it, I was happy to oblige. People are so very desperate for babies… so desperate that they’ll pay any price. And they did.” She laughs to herself, and then winces at the pain it must cause her. She’s given up on pleading for mercy, too fond of her vile memories to feign innocence anymore. “But twins attract attention. I couldn’t let anyone take them both, and then I had the realization that instead of making money off of them just once, why not do it over and over?”
I want so badly to pull Claire into my arms and hold her, to offer her warmth or comfort. But I don’t move, letting her take all of it in stride.
“What did you do?”
“I put the other girl into a system so broken no one would notice a whole child falling through the cracks.” Addison says, her voice and eyes distant for a moment before they lock onto Claire. “Except, instead of paying the families to care for her, I chargedthem. Adoption is expensive, you know, and I can’t help that it fails sometimes. It was nice, at first, making all that cash off of her. It was easy, too, until they would start asking questions and then I had to get involved, find another family who would play ball. It became exhausting, so I dropped her eventually with someone who wouldn’t ask questions…”
Addison doesn’t have to say the name. I know the sort of man who wouldn’t ask questions… the sort of man who would violate a child’s innocence. He’s dead, and soon, Addison will be too.
“You left my sister with someone youknewwould hurt her.” Violet accuses, drawing the attention of everyone. “You left a child with apredator. I want to hear you say it. Quit skirting the truth and say that you murdered our mother and then stood by to watch one of her daughter’s suffer.” Violet says, stepping away from Wes’ side. He lets her go without a struggle, rolling his shoulders as he watches her slowly approach her mother’s murderer… or one of them, anyway.
“I didn’t watch.” Addison blinks, turning to look at her as though just realizing she’s there. “I looked the other way.” Her eyes flit over Violet’s shoulder, to where Claire stands stoically, watching what is transpiring without any recognizable emotion on her face. When she looks back to Violet, recognition seems to switch somewhere. “You’re thechosenone. The one that a wealthy family paid a small fortune for. But I’m guessing your life wasn’t rainbows and butterflies, was it, princess?”
Addison’s cold laugh turns into the sound of her choking on the blood in the back of her throat. I wonder idly how deeply the senator stabbed her, and if he knew where to place it to make this slow. When Violet doesn’t answer, Addison graces us with a bloody smile. “You were in the Doll House.”
It’s not a question, and Violet doesn’t acknowledge it, but I notice Addison’s eyes lingering on her scars. “Shame. You’d be so beautiful…” Her eyes flit to Claire. “So beautiful that everyone wants you. A docile child with big blue eyes and porcelain skin?”She sneers. “Every foster family’s dream, it seems. You know how much I regret keeping you alive? I helped you get away from the Giante’s and claim your freedom, but you couldn’t just fucking let it go, could you?”
Claire only stares mutely at her, bolstering Addison’s confidence. “I should have smothered you in your mother’s shredded womb, youwretched little bitch.”
I’m upon her before I even have a chance to think about it, but a tiny blonde wedges herself between Addison and I before I can dig the blade into her.
“Let me.” Violet says, craning her neck to appeal to me. “Please.”
I gathered the girls for vengeance and justice. Far be it from me to stop her now. I pass the hilt of the blade into her upturned palm, unnerved by the deep color of her irises… or maybe not the color. Maybe it’s how quickly she can go from dead eyes to ones full of feeling.
It slips away as she turns back to face Addison, running a finger over the edge of the knife… hard enough that she draws her own blood. Violet doesn’t even seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care. “You’re right. My life wasn’t rainbows and unicorns. I mean, itwas, actually… up until my parents died. And then it was more like monsoons and anacondas. You’ve been to the Doll House?”
Addison’s jaw is clamped too tight to make speaking possible as she stares hatefully at the child she sold off. “No.” Violet answers for her. “You wouldn’t have walked out if you went in… at least not looking like that.”
Quick as a whip, she drives the blade into Addison’s thigh, causing her to open her mouth to let out a guttural scream, which fractures into a sobbing plea.
“Stop!” Her eyes traipse over us all in turn, but slowly, she realizes she will get no mercy from any of us. “Please! I have children!My boys! Mas—”
“Don’t youfuckingdare!” Victor’s scream cuts her off abruptly. “Don’t you fuckingdaresay their names.” His tone is more controlled when he speaks again, but the hiss is impossible to ignore when he says, “You won’t hurt my children anymore. Ever.”
The blood dripping onto the floor is thick, being pumped directly from her wicked heart into the gash in her leg. She’ll hemorrhage soon, but I’m not going to force Claire to take the bait. If she wants vengeance, she can have it, but she has to reach for it… anything to show me that she is in there.
“P-please.” Her fluttering eyes turn to Wes, thinking she may find some compassion in the only person who hasn’t taken her indiscretions personally. But if she thinks Wes will grant her mercy, she’s even dumber than I thought.
Or maybe she’s just desperate.
“Well, if I pull the knife out now, you’re going to bleed to death so much faster.” Violet scoffs. “Can’t have that, can we?” She spins, her long hair whipping as she practically skips to the table. “It’s like a buffet!” She says, clapping her hands in excitement as her eyes traipse the weapons laid out before her. “I’d like to try a little of everything, but…”
Her fingers close around a scalpel, and she lets out a squeal as she hurries back to Addison. “Look what I found! Don’t worry—I’ll make your face pretty even though your soul is putrid.”
The sickly sweet voice drops at the end of her promise, and then she grips Addison’s hair in one fist, using the scalpel to draw a line across her cheek. Addison’s scream is weak, and the blood that wells on her pale skin doesn’t flow as fast as it should. “Be grateful for this, Addison. In the Doll House, it’s the sign of a fighter. The smile…” She rips the blade downward to the corner of Addison’s mouth, pulling with more force than she needs. “The smile is what they give you the first time they feel teeth… that’s if you get to keep your teeth. Not everyone does.”
My stomach twists at the thought of Violet enduring something so cruel, but then it doesn’t surprise me. Whatdoessurprise me is the way she is carving Addison’s face like a turkey without the slightest hint of remorse.
Honestly, Violet terrifies me. But then, so does Claire right now. “It’s called a Glasgow smile. It used to be a gang thing.” She shrugs, pausing to admire her handiwork as she tilts Addison’s chin side to side, inspecting her under the light.
I’ll never forget doing the same to her, in that horrific moment where I’d thought she was Claire. We all have scars, but not all of us wear them on our face… or even on the outside.
“But the X,” she continues, tracing the letter at the top of the cheekbone. “That’s a tally. One line for every month you’re there. When you wake up, you’ll want to know how long you were unconscious. They’re badges of honor, proving how resilient you are.”
I’m not convinced Addsion is even still alive to hear this story until I hear her gasp, struggling to get a breath. “But for you, I’ll give you three. You don’t deserve them, honestly, but you seem so proud. This one on the right side…” She runs her own finger along Addison’s paper-white cheek, the side with a single slash across her bone. Her own blood mingles with the little bit that drips from the open wound. “That’s for me. But this X?” She draws the X in question as she moves to the other side, using the scalpel with less force this time. “Two lines… one for my mother, and one for my sister.”
When she stands up to step back and admire her masterpiece, Addison’s head falls forward. For one moment, I think she’s gone.
