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SHAY:She questioned him, so she was the biggest threat. One night, senior year—I think it was senior year, because our hair had grown to our waists and it was freezing out, so it had to be winter—Don went to a dinner party. That sort of thing had started happening more frequently, Don having nights out with business partners.
Rachel was watching us, and she made a mistake: she left us unsupervised to take a shower. The minute the water ran, Clem burst out the front door and took off down the street. I had no idea what she was thinking. Maybe she’d been planning it a long time, or she was just seizing the chance. I don’t know.
I also don’t know how Rachel realized. She had a sixth sense, I guess, or maybe she could hear Laurel gasping all the way in the bathroom. She barreled out of the shower after Clem, soaking wet and naked. I was so stunned, I didn’t think. The front door was wide open. So I ran.
I’ll never forget how the air felt on my skin, or the grass under my feet. My heart was beating like it had wings. When I looked up at the sky, I stopped in my tracks. By then, it must’ve been a year since I’d been outside at night. I’d forgotten how the stars blazed down at you, like a million sparkling fires. The wonder you could feel.
But then Don slammed into me from behind and I fell face-first into the grass, biting the dirt. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, mouth full of that bitter taste. He must’ve come home just in time to catch us. He dragged me by my ankles across the lawn. I watched the stars the whole time. When he pulled me into the house, Clem was already lying on the foyer floor.
Things were very bad after that. Don beat me with the belt. I had to lay in my bed for a whole day, completely alone, without food or water. Before that night, I’d honestly thought living with Don was a choice I’d made. It didn’t hit me until then that we were being held.
When I finally got up to search the house for Clem, I found the rest of them in the library. Don was in his armchair, Laurel and Rachel at his feet, pretending to read, and they all looked up at me the minute I walked in. The tableau is burned into my brain. Laurel’s skin was practically translucent by then, and she was so skinny you could see every bone. Rachel was fidgeting, practically foaming at the mouth. I guess they’d been waiting for me to start.
JAMIE:Start what?
SHAY:Don said Clem was a betrayer. If she hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have followed. She’d corrupted our family. He handed Laurel and me steak knives from the wooden block in the kitchen. But he made a show of taking his precious dagger from the wall, the Roman pugio, and giving it to Rachel, like a reward. He led us down into the basement, where the only light came from a bulb that hung from the ceiling. When it flared on, there was Clem, naked, her hands tied around a structural beam, head hanging. Don always complained she wasn’t losing weight fast enough, but as far as I could see, she was nothing but sharp lines and shadows.
He said it was a lesson in accountability, for her and for us. We would each make one cut, somewhere Clem’s clothes would hide. Rachel would go first.
JAMIE:You didn’t.
SHAY:I’ll never forget the way the air smelled. Like iron and animal, rich and tangy, so thick you could practically taste it. Or the way Clem looked at me when I faced her. I’d expected her eyes to be vacant, like they were when Don punished her. But they were burning. Accusatory.
I’ve thought about it a lot since then. I think Clem had woken up, and the look in her eyes was her trying to wake me up, too. But in the moment, I thought she was trying to blame me—like her inability to follow the rules wasmyfault. All of my guilt and fear turned into anger because it was easier. I’m grateful Don gave us only one cut. I’m not sure what I would have done on my own.
JAMIE:You don’t mean that.
SHAY:Look at me, Jamie.
JAMIE:I can’t imagine you hurting anyone.
SHAY:Look at me. I didn’t just do it. Iwantedto. How do you come back from that?
JAMIE:I don’t think I can hear any more. I’m sorry, I know it’s not what a journalist’s supposed to say. But I’m more than that with you.
SHAY:I’m telling you so you understand. The truth is burning in me, like a fever. I have to tell.
(Silence.)
Just listen. I didn’t know this the night we cut Clem, but my punishment wasn’t over. Or maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a punishment. Maybe it was Don’s plan all along, what he’d been building up to. But a week later, at midnight, he knocked on our bedroom door and said, “All of you. Now.”
Clem was still healing, and my back was still raw, but we knew we had to go. We followed him into his room, where Rachel was waiting. He lined them against the wall, but stood me in the center. I’d never had everyone watch before. I didn’t like it—especially Rachel, who’d been eyeing my welted back all week. But I knew I had to, so I started to slip off my nightgown, letting my mind untether. By that point, life was about making it from one moment to the next.
But Don seized my wrist and said, “Shay. Meet Mr. X.”
A man walked into the room wearing a dark suit and driving gloves. I will never forget those gloves, or his mane of silver hair. He had the face of a wolf. Even whiskers. When I looked at him, all I could see was his hunger. Whatever he was going to do to me, he’d been waiting a long time to do it.
I hadn’t imagined it could get worse, and now worse was standing right in front of me.
Mr. X looked at Don and said, “You’re right. She’s beautiful.”
Don said, “I told you. Texas beauty queen.”
The man’s eyes trailed down my body. He said to Don, “You told me I could do anything.”
Don said, “Everything you’ve been holding back since the divorce. Think of how that bitch emasculated you. Let it out.”
The man with the wolf’s mane grabbed me by the throat so fast it took a moment for the feeling to break through the shock. And when it did, I couldn’t even scream.
