“It’s okay.”
Max surprises me by turning his palm face-up on the center console, and I surprise myself further by lacing my hand with his. He gives me a reassuring smile. “There’s still time to back out, you know? We can drive away right now. Just say the word.”
“No, I need to do this.”
He nods, but I can tell he isn’t thrilled with the idea. Truthfully, I’m not sure I’m ready for this either, but I have to do it. I have to see if it was all a dream—a nightmare I can’t wake up from.
“I’ll be right beside you the entire time.”
“Thanks,” I muster a small smile, but a part of me wishes he’d let me do this alone. I wish they’d all leave so I could walk those halls without anyone watching. I glance up at the stairs.
Run, Pet. If I find you, I won’t let you go a second time.
I can see his face as clear as a bell. I hear the last words he said to me before I did exactly as he ordered and ran.
While I’m watching the stairs, Max climbs out of the car and opens my door. He offers me his hand, and I stare at it, remembering all the times Ares made this very same gesture. I place my hand in Max’s, and his fingers fold around mine, firm, secure, and comforting. I let him pull me from the vehicle and then we walk up the sidewalk to the stairs. Max flashes his badge and says a few words to the officer standing guard. I don’t hear them. I’m too busy hearing Ares tell me to run.
I climb the stairs alone, one foot after the other, as if walking toward my execution.
Behind me, Max calls out. “Camille, wait.”
I don’t wait. He’s not my master. When the guard at the top of the threshold presses his hand against my chest to tell me to back up, I just keep going.
“Miss, miss, you can’t just walk in here.”
“Miss Flynn,” Stahl says from behind the guard. “It’s alright, Carl. She’s our victim.”
“I’m not a victim,” I whisper through clenched teeth.
Stahl gives me a tight smile. “I’m glad you’re here. We’d like you to take a look around, see if anything jogs your memory.”
I nod, but I’m not really listening. I don’t care what Agent Stahl, Max, or anyone else wants. I need to see my room. I need to know this really happened. Thathereally existed.
“So, we’ll start here at the beginning of the house and then I thought . . .” Stahl trails off as I shove past him, making a beeline up the hall, past the table where I broke the vase over Hermes’ head, and to the end of the house where I push open the door to my room. My cell.My home.
Everything is as I left it. The bed is mussed from sleep and my tussle with Hermes. The plush rug is in the center of the floor where I would taunt Ares by touching myself.
Everything is the same, and yet it’s all different. He’s not here. Just the ghost of the man who used to own me. My gaze catches on the gilt birdcage. I move closer, tears already springing into my eyes. The cage is no longer hanging from its frame, but instead, lies open on the floor. The door has broken off its hinges, the feeding tray and water bowl upturned, and their contents have left a sloshy, reeking mess on the hardwood floor. The birds, those sweet little creatures who got me through some of the darkest days of my life, are gone. Dead or set free—I don’t know. They vanished into thin air, just like him. Did he kill them, squeeze their tiny little necks until their bones snapped, their frantic wingbeats ceasing along with their heartbeats? Did he set them free, and are they out there now, waiting to get back in their cage like me?
I sink to my knees. A strangled scream tears free from my throat. Everyone is watching me. I feel their eyes judging, pitying. As if I’m a freak.They don’t know. They could never understand what it means to return to this place with no Ares, no Master, and no little birds.
I can’t breathe. Blood whooshes in my ears, drowning out the keening cry that I feel down to my bones.
“Jesus Christ, get her out of here.” Stahl’s disembodied voice lands on my ears, but I can’t see through the tears streaming from my eyes.
“Camille, come on.” Max’s strong arms lift me from the floor. I kick, and buck. I fight, and lash out with my fists against his head and shoulders, seeking to hurthimthe way he’s hurt me.I want to destroy him. I hate him for turning me into a monster, and worse still, I hate him because he made me this way, and then he let me go.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s me, Max. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”
But I’m not safe. I’m far from safe. I’m broken, left bleeding with my heart torn out, my mind fractured, and my soul in tatters. I’m a slave without a Master. I’ll never be okay again.
My sobs turn to gut-wrenching wailing, and Max sets me on my feet, his strong arms banding around me and holding me upright. I beat at his chest, and he lowers his voice and whispers, “Enough, Camille. Enough.”
I press my face against his jacket and cry. Maximus holds me. For the longest time he just holds me there in the hallway of the house haunted by my ghost. He lifts me in a honeymoon hold and carries me outside where the soft grey light of the New York afternoon burns my eyes the way it did when I ran from Ares.
Reporters rush forward, pressing in around the police barricade. They’re too much for the officers to hold back. We’re swarmed. They shout questions, shove their microphones in my face. It takes Max several minutes to reach the car because the press of bodies around us is so tight. I curl into him as more officers join us and attempt to thin the herd with commands that fall on deaf ears. The vultures are too busy pecking at me, hungry for any little scrap of news they can get.
They don’t stop once Max and I are safely in the car. They press closer, shoving cameras and microphones at the window. Flashes go off, momentarily blinding me. The soft cries filling the car are my own, but they sound alien and unreal. I can’t stop the desperation as it claws up and out of my throat.