Page 94 of The Devil’s Lair

“Thanks.”

She gives me a small smile, then crosses the room to the door. Pausing on the threshold, she glances back at me. “Do you believe in fate?”

“Not sure I do, why?”

“Because I think fate brought me to you that night. We’ve both been violated, abused, taken advantage of. Perhaps this is the universe’s way of telling us the way to heal is by walking the path together.”

Another flash of a smile, and she’s gone.

Her footsteps fade, and something inside me shifts. Fate. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about. I close my eyes. I don’t think fate brought us together.

I think it finally stopped getting in the way.

When I wake the next morning, I’m still on the couch, my eyes glued together and my neck feeling as though it’s been stomped on. I push myself to sitting and groan, kneading the sore muscles. My stomach growls, reminding me I missed dinner. Last night, the thought of food made me want to hug the toilet again, but this morning, the nausea has lessened, and I’ve woken with a fervent desire for revenge. That alone gives me strength.

Today is the day the past catches up with a couple who’ve run from their crimes for far too long.

I retrieve my phone and do what I couldn’t face doing yesterday. I read the private investigator’s full report into Ava Southall and her husband. Turns out they’re retired and living a quiet life in a three-bedroomed bungalow in Sussex.

Other than me, how many kids did they abuse? The horror of it presses down on my chest, a weight I can’t and won’t shake until I’ve made them pay.

I arrive for breakfast to find the dining room empty, and I’m glad. Putting a mask on comes naturally to me, has done for years. After my breakdown yesterday, though, and knowing what I have to face, I’m feeling raw. I need to hold onto my strength for the confrontation that lies ahead.

I eat a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, and wash it down with juice. Re-energized, I make my way to Rebecca’s rooms, knock, and wait. She answers a few seconds later, takes one look at my face, and nods.

“I’m sure one of the girls won’t mind watching Isla for a few hours.”

I angle my head to one side. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Read me like that? No one has ever seen me the way you do.”

She smiles. “A talent I never knew I had. Maybe instead of children’s books, I should go into mind reading. Like you.”

I chuckle. I’d forgotten I said that to her once.

Isla barrels past her mother and flings her arms around my legs. “Tobias, up.”

My eyes mist over. She said my name. I bend down and lift her into my arms. “Well, hello there, pretty girl. I like this bow.” I tug on the bright purple bow in her hair.

“Bow.” She points at it and beams.

“She’s saying more and more all the time,” Rebecca says, pride knitted into every word.

“That’s because she’s a clever girl, aren’t you, Isla?”

“Clever.”

Rebecca said Isla’s therapist told her it’ll be a while before Isla is speaking in complete sentences, but every word she speaks is a gift neither of us ever thought we’d have. I’m more grateful than I can express.

“Let me text our group chat.” Rebecca beckons me inside.

Isla fidgets to get down, so I slide her to the floor. “You have a group chat?”

“Yeah.” She beams. “Isn’t it great? I actually have friends now.” Her expression softens. “Something else I have to thank you for. You not only gave me a family but friends, too.”

She’ll argue with me if I say she has nothing to thank me for, that it’s me who should be thanking her, so I don’t. I simply smile, too.