Memories of the times he did lock me in the cellar—for my own sake—come flooding in. “Yes, sometimes. But mostly, I stayed in the schoolhouse during the days and walked underground in the tunnels to the main house. He wanted me to stay out of sight from everyone. He told me that my life was in danger, and he was keeping me safe from those who wanted to do me harm.”
“Who wanted to do you harm?”
“He told me that my mother did. I believed him.” The look the reporter gives me makes me uneasy. I can’t tell if he thinks I’m stupid or is showing a look of pity.
“Did you ever think of escaping?”
I look at Christopher briefly, and he simply nods his encouragement for me to answer and keep the interview moving along. “No.”
“Was it because you were afraid of him?” the reporter asks.
Honest.
Be honest.
But what if Papa Rich will read the interview or see me on television? What will he say? How will he react if I tell the reporter my truth?
Be honest.
“Yes, I guess I was. I was afraid of what he would do. I witnessed what happened when people broke his rules. I didn’t want it to happen to me, so I followed his rules no matter what they were.”
“Are you talking about the acid pits? How he brought innocent people to the mill and pushed them to their deaths while you watched?”
“She was a child,” Christopher defends. “She was brainwashed to believe that Papa Rich knew best. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. I saw it in full action. The man was demented and frankly not someone you wanted to cross.”
The reporter turns his attention to Christopher, which allows me to breathe out a sigh of relief. “And did you witness him killing people in the same way?”
“Sadly, yes,” Christopher says. “Ember and I came close to escaping one other time, and a young man and woman were trying to help us. We came close but failed. Richard took the couple to the pits and made us watch as he pushed them to their deaths. He then threw Ember’s cat into the pit to punish her even more.”
I snapped my eyes toward Christopher, angry he’s bringing up my dead cat, Pine Cone. There’s no need to discuss my cat. It’s a detail that doesn’t need to be said, and it stabs my heart and rips out my soul, having to relive that awful memory.
“There are reports that you and Ember are married. That Richard had a pastor come to the property and marry you. Is that true?” the reporter continues. I wonder where he’s getting all his information and am angry our personal business is so easy to come by.
“Yes, Ember and I are married. The entire reason I wasn’t killed in the pit like the other victims was that Richard wanted me to marry Ember—who he considered his daughter. He treated it like an old-fashioned arranged marriage.”
“So let me get this straight,” the reporter says, shaking his head as if it will help him make sense of our twisted tale. “You were kidnapped, chained in a cellar, and then forced to marry the woman who this man kidnapped as a child. A woman who had been hidden away in a ghost town?”
Christopher reaches out and pats my knee as he nods in agreement. “I know it’s hard to believe. I think one of the most difficult things about being held captive was trying to come to terms that the nightmare was real. That the man was truly serious and believed he was acting under God in his decisions. There was no reasoning with him. There was no way I could threaten, bribe, or even plead my way out of it.”
“Why would Richard want you to marry his daughter? Why?”
“He loved me,” I say flatly. “He wanted the best for me. Family, old-fashioned values, God, and… regardless of what he did, he did have a strong belief in those. And he loved me.”
“Love?” The reporter raises an eyebrow and smirks. “You call locking you away from civilization for your entire life love?”
I nod, confident in my statement. “Yes, because in his mind, modern civilization is dangerous, corrupt, and sinful. He saw it as protecting me. When he killed all those people… he justified it as a show of love. Protection.”
“I saw it with my own eyes,” Christopher adds. “The man truly saw Ember as his daughter. But he was so sick and twisted. His level of control via fear is what made it so hard to escape.”
“Ember,” the reporter redirects his attention to me, “did you help him kill those people?”
I don’t even have a chance to open my mouth before Christopher snaps, “She was as much a victim as them. She was a child who had to grow up as a prisoner for her entire life. She was forced to witness awful acts that will stay with her forever. Of course she didn’t help kill those people. Richard was a madman. He was a killer, and Ember is lucky to finally be free of him. She is finally free.”