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There’s no need to say any more.
Silence pervades the room for a while, but it’s not oppressive. If anything, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders along with that single, simple truth.
Róisín, who I’ve already worked out has a somewhat tender disposition, is visibly upset, and wipes away a tear that has escaped down her cheek. But it’s Emylyah who surprises me, reaching over and squeezing my hand in a heart-warming show of compassion and solidarity.
Her gentle touch lingers on my hand, and I feel a surge of gratitude. In that simple gesture, she conveys a depth of understanding that makes me realize she is a survivor, like me. That we are both warriors in our own right, and we will always face whatever challenges this life throws at us, head-on.
As the weight of my past continues to hover in the air, Róisín's voice breaks the silence, her words filled with empathy. "My father is a hard man," she reveals, “He was tough on the boys, some might say brutal, when we were kids, but I've always been his little princess. I can't begin to imagine what you've been through." Her eyes search mine as if trying to understand the depths of my pain. "I know your presence here is... abnormal, but please know we're here for you. We'll help you in any way we can." As reticent as Emylyah is, she nods in agreement.
If anyone else had uttered those same words, I might have laughed in their face, what with me being a captive and all, but I realize in her own unique way that Róisín actually means it, and instead my throat tightens with gratitude, making it difficult for me to speak. It's the weight of their genuine empathy that propels the words out of my throat. "Thank you," I manage to whisper, tears brimming in my eyes. "Thank you both."
It's weird to encounter such compassion from people I don't know well, more so since it was never forthcoming from those who were supposed to love and cherish me. Although I doubt Róisín's offer of help extends to assisting in my escape. She’s adorably uncomplicated, if a little naive. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. Lord knows I wish I could return to those days when everything in my life was so much simpler.
Despite the unconventional circumstances, I feel like I've made a friend.
Two friends, in fact. Emylyah might not be quite so forthcoming, but I sense only kindness and understanding emanating from her presence.
For so long, I've felt trapped within the clutches of the Cosa Nostra, my spirit gradually eroded by the ceaseless torment. But now, the dampened embers of rebellion ignite within me, fueling my resolve to break free from the chains that have bound me for far too long. No longer will I be a victim of circumstance. I will rewrite my story and reclaim my life from those who seek to break me.
I look at both Róisín and Emylyah, my two unlikely allies in this battle. It's a bittersweet revelation, knowing these two benevolent women have entered my life during such tumultuous times. I can't help but wonder if I'll be able to maintain this connection when this is all over.
I hope so.
Róisín pulls herself together and claps her hands. “Right. Let’s find you some clothes and at least allow you to be treated like a human being. I won’t let you sit here in my brother’s underwear a moment longer.”
She jumps off the bed and grabs the door handle, her eyes widening when she realizes it’s locked. Not that Róisín lets that faze her. She just hammers on the heavy wood and cusses Liam until he opens up. I can’t help but laugh when I hear her giving him a piece of her mind as the door closes behind her. Even Emylyah chuckles.
I shake my head and share a look with the other girl. “Well, proper clothing will be awesome,” I say, determined not to lapse into an uncomfortable silence. “But I’m not sure getting away from these four walls is going to happen, no matter how Róisín sweet talks Liam or her brothers.”
To my surprise, instead of agreeing, Lyah returns her own observation. “Don’t underestimate her. You wouldn’t believe some of the things Róisín has managed to get away with.”
“Oh, I think I can imagine. She certainly has a way about her. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to be allowed visitors, so even this is a treat.”
And I mean it. If all I get is clothes and conversation, this will have been a good day. Anything else is a bonus.
In no time at all, Róisín is back with an armful of clothing, and frankly, even that surprises me. I refused to get my hopes up since I was convinced someone would object and stop her, but she’s back again, and it almost feels like my birthday. Little bubbles of pleasure burst in my chest, and I’m overcome by the type of happiness I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Some of the things Róisín has brought are so inappropriate we fall about laughing, something else that’s been a distant memory for far too long. I feel light and joyful, and the fact that it’s happening here, in what is supposed to be my confinement, is something I can’t get my head around, so I don’t bother trying. I just accept it for what it is.
And what it is, is amazing.
“Lord girl, what were you thinking?” Emylyah demands. Holding up an all-in-one body stocking affair with some pretty X-rated cut-outs.
“Put it on,” I dare her. I don’t imagine for a moment that she will, but there’s an unexpected light of mischief in her eyes that’s been absent until now. She surprises me, dashing off to the bathroom with the outfit clutched in her hands and glee spilling from her upturned lips.
While she’s gone, I dig through the spoils and find a soft pair of leggings and a light, slouchy sweater, pulling them on while Róisín holds up various other items.
“How about this?” she asks, waving a pretty, floaty, and very feminine skirt in front of me. It’s short and flippy with a floral chiffon overlay. I love the look of it, but I swear this girl imagines we’re all going to swan out of here and go to lunch or something. “It’s gorgeous,” I tell her, reaching out to touch a finger to the fabric. “But I’m pretty sure I don’t have anywhere to wear it.”
That look of mischief is back in her eyes. “Well, you definitely need more than one outfit, and I happen to know my brother is a sucker for a pair of long, bare legs.”
“Why Róisín!” I exclaim, pressing my hand to my chest in faux dramatics. “You wouldn’t be suggesting I seduce your brother now, would you?”
She flutters her eyelashes at me in mock innocence, and I feel my face heat with a tinge of guilt despite my teasing words. Because the truth is, that thought has already crossed my mind.
Thankfully, I’m saved from the conversation by Emylyah exiting the bathroom in a flourish, the cat-suit gracing her lush curves like a second skin.
“Wow. You look amazing!” I tell her, genuine in my praise.
