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1
Penelope
Large black umbrellas covered the heads of everyone in attendance at Uncle Benjamin’s funeral. Fat raindrops dropped in a heavy shower, and I couldn’t be certain, but it didn’t make sense for the heavens to cry today.
The world had lost a piece of shit—a son of a bitch—a rapist—a pedophile. The sky should’ve been bright, the sun shining, flowers growing in every budding garden across the globe.
Instead, we stood still. The family I hadn’t seen in years and family I never knew I had. Not a single person shed a tear. Faces were stoic, weary, confused by his “suicide,” but not particularly saddened.
It had been two weeks since his death. Authorities immediately called it a suicide due to the nature of his death and the way Benjamin was found. Only I knew the truth. When I first saw the recording, my immediate response was shock. Then I realized it had been put in place by Dominic Lucas—my academic advisor, my professor, my lover…and my love…my shock increased tenfold.
I sighed as traces of water slipped through my umbrella and pelted my coat sleeves. A short distance away, a gray bus drove onto the gravel and parked, and all heads turned to see the new arrivals.
I read the words on the side of the bus: Federal Bureau Detention Center.
My eyes widened, and I turned to face the transport. The doors opened, and two uniformed inmates were ushered off.
When their heads lifted, I gasped, and tears clouded my vision.
My father looked as if he’d aged twenty years. Gray hair sprouted from his head, spiked, and wet like he used to wear it when it was the same golden brown as mine. His once-shining eyes were dull, deep-set, and weary. He didn’t appear the man who once took on the entire world—not even close.
My gaze fluttered to my mother by his side. A wound inside me seemed to split open as I perused her. I was closer to her when she left—when she chose a life of crime over me. And while I thought I was over it, seeing her now brought a heavy sadness that made tears stream down my face.
Her once-shoulder-length blonde hair was black, cut short to her ears, and stringy. An officer yanked them apart and pushed them forward, and I twitched in reaction every time he touched them.
Had they been abused?
My throat tightened, and without thinking, I wiggled through the group and walked at a fast pace in their direction.
When I broke through the crowd, their eyes turned to me just as another officer cut me off, stepping in my line of sight. “Turn around and go back to your seat.”
“Or you’ll do what?”
He glared at me. “Do as I said, girl, or you’ll wish you did.”
My eyes widened. “Is that a threat?”
He whistled, and the guard who stood by my parents shoved their backs hard. “On your knees!”
My parents kneeled, and my heart squeezed. I glared back at the officer but took a few steps back, remaining outside the crowd to watch them.
The officer turned back and nodded, and the guard at their side shouted, “On your feet!”
They stood up, and it was the first time I noticed the handcuffs linked in front of them. Their gray and orange jumpsuits were soggy from the knee area down, and I grimaced, knowing it was my fault.
“You could let me speak to them.”
The officer turned back to me and stared but didn’t respond.
“It’s not as if they’re going anywhere.”
He remained silent but continued to glare.
“It’s a funeral, for God’s sake. What is wrong with you?”
“Your issue is you think I give a fuck. You only see my face because I clocked in this morning. Suck my dick and fuck your funeral.”
I shook my head. “You need to grow up. One day, you’ll be here. Everyone has a day.”
