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Haven’s heart raced as she picked at her fingernails, trying to keep her composure as Carmine left. Dr. DeMarco crouched down in front of her, blocking the spot she’d been focused on, so she stared at a loose thread on his shirt instead.
He raised his hand, and Haven recoiled, wrapping her arms around herself protectively as she moved as far back from him as possible. The queasy feeling flared, and Haven bit her bottom lip to keep it in.
“You should stay off your legs for a few days,” Dr. DeMarco said as he ran his fingers across the tops of her knees and squeezed them.
She winced. It hurt. “I’m fine, sir.”
“You have bursitis. It’s when the little sac above the kneecap fills with fluid. You need to rest and ice them so the swelling goes away.”
He let go of her knee but didn’t get up. It was uncomfortable, him staring at her. She wanted nothing more than for him to go away.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer. “Do you know what a GPS chip is?”
She shook her head.
“It’s a tracking device, sometimes as small as a grain of rice. My car has one in it. If someone steals it, I can find its location. It’s a security measure, so no one takes what belongs to me.” He paused. “You’re no different, child. You have one in you, too.”
At those words, Haven met his gaze. Sympathy shined from his eyes, which made her sicker.
“I injected you with one in the basement that first day, so no matter what happens, I’ll be able to find you. It’s how I knew where you went yesterday.”
She couldn’t speak, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d lose it. She’d never had these reactions toward Master Michael. She endured years of abuse from him and could keep going, battered but strong, intact . . . but in one second, without raising his hand, Dr. DeMarco had shattered a part of her.
10
Durante fell under autumn’s clutch. The lush green faded, giving way to rich, warm hues scattered among the tall pine trees. Leaves fell in heaps on the ground, covering the earth like a crisp blanket.
With the emergence of fall came Homecoming, a big extravaganza in town, with spirit week and a pep rally, a parade, and a football game, the week’s activities culminating in a dance. Carmine should have been excited, but he had been dreading it all week.
Haven had been cold again, hiding out whenever he was home. He heard her crying at night as he sat in the library, whittling away the hours by plucking the strings on his guitar. He wanted to go to her, to console her, but he didn’t know what to say. Sorry you’re here? Sorry you’re trapped? Sorry my father is a sick motherfucker? How could he explain it, make it all right, when nothing about the situation made sense to him?
* * *
It was close to six in the evening when Haven opened her bedroom door and came face-to-face with Dr. DeMarco. He stood in the hallway with his fist raised to knock, and she took a step back as he dropped his hand. “May I come in?”
She nodded, confused why he would ask permission in his own house.
He entered nonchalantly, as if he were there for casual conversation, and looked around for a moment before addressing her. “How do your knees feel?”
“Fine,” she said quietly.
“Do you think you’re up for a trip out of the house?”
The question alarmed her. A voice in the back of her mind screamed, It’s a trick!
“Only if you say so, sir,” she said, eyeing him warily.
Dr. DeMarco reached out to her. She recoiled, her heart pounding rapidly as she braced to be struck, but he dropped his hand without touching her. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to Carmine’s football game. Make yourself presentable.”
She stood there when he left, having no idea what he considered presentable. She eventually changed into a pair of khaki pants and a sweater and brushed her frizzy hair, but nothing could tame the natural curls. She pulled it back with a rubber band and forced her feet into a pair of shoes before heading downstairs. Dr. DeMarco waited in the foyer with his hands shoved in his pockets, rocking on his heels. Hearing her approach, he scanned her. She awaited his assessment, but he said nothing as he pulled out his keys and opened the front door. Haven stepped onto the porch as he locked up the house, ushering her into the passenger seat of the car.
Durante High School’s parking lot was packed when they arrived, cars lining the road and covering the field beside the school. Haven gawked at them as Dr. DeMarco parked on the grass.
“I’ve gone about things the wrong way,” he said. “I’ve kept you in the house until you could prove you’d act appropriately in public, but there’s no way for you to do that until I allow you around people. So I’m giving you a chance, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
“Yes, sir.”
Her knees wobbled as they made their way into the stadium. People surrounded them on all sides, shoving past and blocking their path. Dr. DeMarco glided through the crowd fluidly, while she followed, feeling like she was drowning. They encircled her, voices and bodies swallowing her like a current. Dr. DeMarco paid her no mind as they headed up the packed bleachers.
