Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“Here she is,” Esther sings, looking up from wiping crumbs from the countertop. “My favorite daughter-in-law.”
“I’m your only daughter-in-law, so I have to be your favorite.” I go to her, falling into her warm, welcoming embrace. “Daniel knows.”
“He’s not stupid, Rose.”
Agreed. I’m the stupid one. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I say, exposing my vulnerability. It would be stupid to try and hide it from Esther.
“What on earth has been going on? We had young ears in the car from the airport, so we had to talk about the weather and soccer.”
“I would love to talk about the weather and soccer,” I say, releasing her.
“Then I get home to a house full of strange women.”
“Most are gone now,” I say. “We only have two extra mouths to feed.”
“What are we going to do with them?” she asks gently.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “All I know is that Anya looked plain terrified when we asked if she had anyone we could contact in her homeland, and Pearl, the British girl, has no one.” I take a seat next to Tank and lean into his side. “Missed you,” I say sincerely, getting a grunt and an awkward arm around my shoulder, hugging me close very briefly before he lets go and takes another slice of pizza. “Thanks for watching Daniel.” Another grunt. “Where’s Danny?”
“Office,” Otto says, getting up and leaving, giving Esther a peculiar look as he does.
I look between them, seeing Esther shying away from it. She catches me watching and smiles brightly. “I’ll check on the two girls, make sure they have everything they need, then I think I’ll get myself an early night.” She raises her arms in the air, imitating a poor yawn. “Anyone need anything?”
“Maybe you should ask Otto?” I say, casually playing with the salt pot on the island. Hastily, Goldie, Tank, Ringo, and Fury all get up and leave, and I watch them all go. Good. I turn to Esther. “What was that look?”
“What look?” she asks, making her getaway, avoiding my eyes.
“Esther, come on,” I say, laughing. “You and Otto are the worst-kept secret around here. Even Daniel’s figured it out.”
Shoulders dropping, she faces me. Her clear skin is glowing, and it isn’t from being kissed by the sun. “I don’t know what to do,” she admits, coming back to me and sitting. “Danny is so adverse, and I don’t want to be the cause of added stress.”
“So what was your excuse when we were in St. Lucia and Danny had no stress?”
She peeks at me. “What do you know about Otto?”
I’m taken aback by the question. The truth is, not a lot. “I know he was James’s father’s righthand man when he was alive. I know they were close.” I imagine like Danny and Brad are. “And I know he’s loyal.” I move in a little closer. “You’re unsure because of how little you know?”
“A little, I suppose. I overheard Goldie making a comment about him.” She grimaces. “Well, you know.”
“A player?”
“Plenty of women. And all young, by the sounds of things.”
What is wrong with her? She has a banging body and youthful face for a woman her age. “You’re beautiful,” I say. “The best example of a woman I know, Esther, and if Otto can’t see that, and your beauty—then he needs his eyes looked at.”
“It’s not just that.” Her gaze drops to her lap, her thumbs making rushed circles where her hands are joined. “The last time I—” She shakes her head and looks at me, and I positively hate the anguish I see in her blue eyes. “Sex has only ever been a horrible experience for me. Painful. Danny’s stepfather, then the endless men that came to the dirty bedsit where I was held after Carlo’s cousin took me from the pub.”
“Oh, Esther,” I whisper, choked up. My heart breaks for her. I know the type of desperate vulnerable state she speaks of.
Sex has only ever been a horrible experience for me.
An unstoppable question has popped into my mind. What about Danny’s biological father? I know about his stepfather, the monster, but what about his real father?
“I was a zombie as I lay on that filthy mattress, Rose,” Esther goes on. I store the question. I can’t add what I know will be another layer of grief. Her hand grabs mine and constricts so hard, holding on, as if she’s scared she could be taken away again. “My body was useless, I couldn’t fight, but I saw, felt, and heard everything.”
I flinch, my mind suddenly crowded with a million flashbacks that I’ve done so well to box away at the back of my mind these past few years. But more recently they’re starting to plague me. They’re creeping out and haunting me. But this now isn’t about me. “Does Otto know your story?” I ask.