Fallen

In essence, and he didn’t think he thought this lightly, they had saved his soul.

“They use religion, but they believe in it too. Because of how Farrow operates, because of how it always has, in many ways it’s stayed stuck in the past. You might have felt that.” He only knew because, for a time, he’d gotten away. He’d had a firsthand view into the outside world. For the first time in his life, he’d been able to compare the way other people lived. Georgia and Mason had never experienced that. Sometimes he wondered if it was what made him different, made him question things that they didn’t. He’d suggested they all move away, leave Farrow behind forever and start lives somewhere else together. But they’d been resistant. They wanted revenge. And he’d told himself he did too, convinced himself of it. It had only taken one day in Scarlett’s presence for that “need” to begin to wither and crumble as new dreams, new desires, ones he’d never dared imagine, began to unfurl inside him like the budding of a fresh green leaf. Untouched. Seeking out the sun.

“Is there . . . in-breeding in Farrow?”

He paused. He’d questioned it too, seen what might be the consequences, though he couldn’t be sure. He’d wondered if one of the reasons the guild hadn’t already forced her out of town was because she was fresh blood. The thought sickened him. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t doubt it. Those families . . . they stick together, not just in secret-keeping, but in all kinds of ways.”

She flinched. “When you say they keep each other’s secrets,” Scarlett went on, “do you mean like what was done to the natives?” She paused. “That was so long ago, though. Those men are dead and gone.”

“Those ones are, yes. But that’s where Lilith House comes in.”

She stared at him, unblinking.

“I lived at Lilith House all my life, Scarlett. You already know that. I . . . saw things.” Shame filled him for his inability to stop the evil he’d witnessed, his failure in preventing other people’s pain. Yes, he’d tried, but in the end, did it matter? Was that a solace to Georgia? To Mason? It was certainly no solace to the girls of Lilith House.

“What kind of things?” she asked warily. She had a right to be wary. He hated having to tell her the truth.

“The guild, they took advantage of those girls. With approval from the headmistress and a blind eye from the staff, the men drugged them and used them regularly.”

She did blink then, her pretty mouth falling open as a disbelieving horror took over her expression. “They . . . raped them?”

He nodded, swallowed. And yes, it was the word he should have used outright. To mitigate what they’d done with softened language made him culpable, even now. “Yes. Yes, they raped them.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “No one . . . no one ever went to the police?”

“No. And if any of the women suspected, they had no proof.” He paused. “Except one. Kandace Thompson.”

Scarlett blinked again. “You did know Kandace.” She sat back, her shoulders slumping. “And she . . . she was . . . raped?” The last word emerged as barely a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze locked with hers, a fresh bout of shame washing through him. The look on Scarlett’s face was killing him. “Yes. I knew Kandace. We were banned from interacting with the students but”—he smiled a sad smile—“Kandace was not a rule follower. She discovered me, us, and she became intent on finding the truth. She found out who our mothers were. She had proof.” He shook his head. “She took some files or . . . I don’t know. She didn’t tell me what she had, only that she was going to bring help. She was going to take that place down.”

“Oh my God,” she repeated, looking shell-shocked. “Did she really run away, Camden? Or . . . did they do something to her?”

“I don’t know that either. All I know was that she planned to leave, to escape. As far as I know, she did, but she never came back. A week later, the fire happened.” His mind traveled back to the day she ran, how he’d picked the fresh mushrooms for her and left them at the top of the crawlspace where she could access them. How nervous he’d been, how relieved when he’d listened through the walls to them shouting about how she’d gotten away . . . and how she hadn’t come back . . . not a day later, not five days later . . . never as far as he knew. And he had no idea if that was because something more terrible had happened to Kandace, or because she’d changed her mind about rescuing him.