“Brooke.” Her tone lowers. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
I hesitate. The room tilts. Dark spots crowd the edges of my vision. Hunger wins.
I open my mouth.
The grits are warm and thick, salted just enough to taste good. The butter coats my tongue. I swallow with effort, forcing it down while every instinct tells me not to take anything from her. She feeds me slowly. Between bites, she lifts the glass and presses it to my lips.
“Drink.” She tips the glass slightly.
The water is cold. It slides down my throat and settles in my stomach.
When the bowl is empty, she wipes my mouth with a napkin as if I am a child. Then she lingers, watching my breathing even out.
I stare at her. “Did you ever love me?”
Her hand stills midair.
“Of course I did.”
“Did?”
She lowers the napkin. “I love you like a daughter.”
“Then how can you let this happen to me?”
“This is the only way you survive.” She folds her hands together. “Any other way and they kill you.”
“And what you’re doing right now isn’t killing me?” I lean forward as far as the restraints allow. “Sending me where you’re about to send me isn’t killing me?”
Mary’s face tightens. “If there was any other way, I would’ve begged John to make it work.”
“John doesn’t give a fuck about me.” I hold her gaze. “Do you?”
She doesn’t answer.
“John told me he wanted me with Nick.” I swallow hard. “That means you both knew. You knew what Nick was. You knew what Amber was. And you let me trust them anyway.”
Mary’s throat moves as she swallows.
“John believed being close to the Talberts and the Vosses would make you harder to touch.” She shifts her weight, avoiding my eyes for a second. “Nick’s family has power. Being tied to them would have put you under their protection.”
“I was raped.” The word breaks on the way out. “That was your idea of protection?”
“That was not supposed to happen.” Her jaw tightens. “Nick stepped out of line.”
I let out a sharp breath.
Her shoulders sag. “He was supposed to be the best option. After you killed him, The Collective stopped seeing you as manageable.”
“What about when I first brought Seth over?” I press. “You said he was good for me. You said you hoped he’d help me find my voice.”
Something shifts across her face.
“I did hope that.” Her voice softens despite herself. “I hoped he’d take you far enough away that none of this could reach you.”
Her voice cracks.
“He couldn’t.” She looks down for a second before meeting my eyes again. “And now he’s most likely dead, sweetheart.”
