Page 140 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

I do it before I can second-guess myself.

They’re clearly not expecting me. Mama is sitting at the desk and Papa is sitting on the armchair by the window. Both of them leap to their feet when I enter.

“Elyssa!” Mama exclaims.

I shut the door behind me, take a deep breath to compose myself, then turn to face them.

Papa starts to say, “I—” But I hold up a hand to cut him off.

“I’m here to say something and I want you both to listen to me,” I say firmly. “You can speak after I’m done. But for right now, I need you to just listen.”

Both look a little shell-shocked, but neither one says a word. I take the moment to look them over from head to toe. They look clean, well-cared-for. Dressed in fresh clothes. The room is big and nicely furnished as well.

Told you. This has “Phoenix” written all over it.

I wave Charity’s voice away. Now is not the time.

“The Sanctuary was and is a cult,” I begin. “It’s not the holy community you led me to believe. And the things, the values, the customs it teaches? They’re not just ridiculous. They’re dangerous. They’re hypocritical. And you wanna know why? Because the whole thing is a lie.”

Papa’s brows furrow. “Daughter, you—”

“I’m not finished,” I say coolly but calmly. “Under Josiah’s leadership, the Sanctuary and the Garden have been aiding and abetting an organization called Astra Tyrannis. This organization traffics in people. They take women and children who need homes and help and they sell them into sex slavery. The poor souls who get trafficked spent their lives being used and abused by powerful men and they’re powerless to stop it.”

Mama opens her mouth to interrupt again, but to my surprise, Papa reaches out and rests a hand on her shoulder. She falls silent as they both cluster together, looking at me with solemn eyes.

“It’s a cult and a front. I’m ashamed you let me be sent to the Garden to participate in it. That place is nothing more than a conveyor belt to ship innocent people off to the darkest futures imaginable. It grinds up their souls and their bodies until there’s nothing left.”

It all sounds very dramatic. But then again, it is. It’s the most dramatic, most painful, most horrific thing I’ve ever had to confront. Especially coming from the sheltered, protected world I once called home.

Somehow, it feels all the more hypocritical because of that. I was shielded from so much. But the children I looked after weren’t.

I think about the night of the rape I suffered. I don’t often think of it as such, but I’m done hiding from uncomfortable truths. Even if they reflect badly on me.

I was raised to be wary of sex. To keep my distance from men. Raised to be a “good girl,” in every sense of the term.

And then I’d been wrapped up like a present and sent into the home of a man who swore he had my best interests at heart.

He raped me. And when he did, it robbed me of something. It tore the veil from my eyes and showed me that there is no such thing as a sanctuary, no such thing as a safe place, no such thing as protection.

You have to fight for your place in this world. Like Phoenix does. Like I’m going to do from now on.

Because I’m done being blind and ignorant.

I’m done being a sheep.

I’m done being anything but myself.

My parents are both watching me from a distance. Like I’m a madwoman melting down incoherently, disturbing their tranquility and threatening what they think is real and true.

I might have felt guilty for that days ago. But not anymore.

None of us here deserve to sleep soundly at night.

“I want no part of this sick and twisted thing you raised me in. And if the two of you still have some warped sense of loyalty towards it, then I want nothing to do with either one of you. You’re my parents and I will always love you. But some lies are too dangerous to live on.”

I stop short, breathing heavily as I look between their shocked expressions. Waiting for something, anything. At least a sign that they’ve heard me. Even if they dismiss everything I’ve said out of hand, I just need them to hear me.

A whole minute passes in silence. The disappointment has settled steadfastly in my stomach. I turn to leave. Then:

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