I wondered how much I wanted Buddy to know. I had no doubts in my mind about what his reaction would be if he knew I was literally my father’s daughter. I was no orphan, and I had no parents who were normal human beings.
Lying had already become second nature to me. So much about the way we had lived depended on good and credible fabrication. Deception and darkness were our true guardians. None of us could survive if we didn’t develop the skills to be crafty and cunning. This was what Daddy meant when he had told me that darkness was our friend. He didn’t mean only the darkness that comes with night. He meant the darkness we could draw over our true faces, the darkness in which we could hide our true feelings, and the darkness through which we navigated during everyday life to avoid exposure.
I realized now that there was so much I had inherited from Daddy. I used to be jealous of Ava, who we were told was Daddy’s actual daughter. The resemblances I saw between him and her often disturbed me, because I wanted those resemblances, too. The very fact that I had not been told until now that he was my father, too, underscored how important it was for us to ration the truth. I didn’t know whose idea it had been to keep me and Marla believing we were simply orphans, but I saw the purpose. For however long we believed it, we were grateful and willing to be obedient and loyal and, of course, to make the sacrifices necessary always to
protect Daddy. I didn’t know when Ava had been told the truth or why she was an exception, but I was sure it had to do with what Daddy and Mrs. Fennel sensed about her. Even I sensed something more about her, something that brought her closer to Mrs. Fennel. It occurred to me that perhaps Marla had been told the truth just recently, and that was what had given her the self-confidence and the edge.
It all seemed to make sense to me now. Daddy was like the queen bee in a hive. He didn’t give birth, but he was the only one who could propagate his kind. All who surrounded him lived to defend and nourish him. This was what Ava and Mrs. Fennel always meant when they emphasized that I shouldn’t think of myself but only of my family. They reminded me of this whenever I felt sorry for myself because I wasn’t permitted to do the things girls my age were doing.
The compensation for this undying loyalty and sacrifice was true, however. I had just seen it. Yes, we would enjoy youth and beauty for decades, even centuries, longer than any normal human being. Yes, we would have anything we wanted, go anywhere we wanted, and satisfy all of our senses, our desires. We would never be frustrated or disappointed, unless we had what I thought I had, a longing to be loved and to love someone.
Whatever capacity for love my sisters possessed had to be directed toward and reserved for Daddy. He demanded all of it, for it was only then that he could be confident that they would never betray him or desert him or fail to provide for him. There was no girl anywhere who was more of a Daddy’s girl than we were and would be forever.
“Well?” Buddy asked.
“Daddy and Mrs. Fennel knew I would be coming there. They called ahead to warn them.”
“Really? But what was it like in there?”
“It’s a very special little orphanage. Daddy obviously does a lot to support it, so whatever he asks for, they are sure to do.”
“What did he ask for?”
“He asked that they not be cooperative with me. They were nasty to me, in fact,” I said, thinking only of Ava.
“But why did you run out of there and faint?”
“I was persistent, probably too persistent, and one of their attendants frightened me.”
“Frightened you? After what you’ve been used to seeing? He must have been something else. What did he do, come after you with a knife or a gun or something?”
“I didn’t want to wait around to find out. It was very unpleasant for me, Buddy. I’m glad you didn’t go in with me, too. You would have lost your temper or something, and it would have turned out even worse.”
“Yeah, but you fainted.”
“I’m just tired, I guess, tired and weak. I should have eaten more. This has been terribly stressful.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look as if he believed everything completely. “Do you think I should take you to see a doctor?”
“Oh, no. I’m fine now.”
“So, what are you going to do now? Will you speak to the police back home?”
“Maybe. I’ll think about it on the way.”
“Good,” he said. He reached for my hand. “I’ll be right beside you, no matter what, Lorelei.”
“I know you will.”
“I’m sorry you came all this way and didn’t find out what you needed to find out. Maybe, once you see the police and the police contact this orphanage, they’ll have to tell you things.”
“I hope so,” I said.
“Well, it’s late now. First thing I should do is get you something substantial to eat. Then we can see about a flight back, huh?”
“Yes, that sounds good.”
“You look tired,” he said.