(Winona)The penthouse feels more like a sanctuary today than it has in months. Abby’s laughter echoes through the spacious living room as she chases a bouncing ball, her small feet thumping against the hardwood floors. The sound of her joy is a balm to my frayed nerves, still tender from yesterday’s therapy session with Barnaby.Jayden and I are at the kitchen island, laptops open, papers strewn about as we try to coordinate our schedules. With Judy gone and Abby starting preschool full-time, our days are suddenly our own, but also more complicated with finding a work-life balance. We’re drafting a family calendar—work meetings, Abby’s school events, therapy sessions. It’s mundane, yet feels like a significant step forward.“Okay, so I’ll drop her off at school on Mondays and Wednesdays, and you pick her up?” Jayden asks, pointing to the digital calendar.“Sounds good. And I can take Tuesdays and Thursdays,” I confirm, making the entries. “Fridays we can alternate or go together, d
(Winona)I’m sitting at a wooden park table, my fingers tracing the rough surface, trying to focus on anything but the dread pooling in my stomach.The park is beautiful today—families laughing, kids playing by the stream, and ducks floating lazily in the clear water. It’s the kind of day that should bring peace, but instead, my frayed nerves barely hold me together.Gordon had assured me that Steve would find me and to just sit somewhere amongst other people. Gordon is here as well. I can’t see him but I know he is. Knowing that quells the gnawing anxiety.My phone is recording, hidden in my pocket, ready to capture every word of this twisted reunion. I brace myself for what I know will be an ugly encounter.The wind rustles through the trees, and I catch sight of him walking toward me. He’s thinner but well dressed and that same smug smirk twists his lips. His presence is a shadow, darkening the brightness of the day.“Well, well,” Steve says as he approaches, his voice laced with c
(Winona)The words hit me. Is he just playing mind games? A sibling? My mind reels, trying to process what he’s saying. “My mother… She had another child? To you?”“Yeah, a year after you left,” he says, almost gleefully. “I was done raising kids by then and done with supplying her drug habit, no one wanted to pay for her services anymore.”I stare at him. What a monster.“Yeah, surprised your mother was a whore, are ya?” He grins. “She wasn’t even good at that. Crying every time. Men want some fire, some passion.”I didn’t ever think my heart could break any harder than it already had over the years. But it did. The sudden realization that I was just too young to realize. He was the reason my mother had a drug habit. He kept her that way so he could pimp her out.If I could ever kill anyone with no regrets, it’s this person in front of me now.“One kid was bad enough, and I wasn’t about to waste the rest of my life on another. So, I left. Don’t know what happened to them, and I don’t
(Winona)“I know we have our list, Jayden, but I have something else I need to talk about in our safe space today.”Jayden looks surprised but he nods. “Of course.”Barnaby leans back in his chair, glancing between us. “Winona, it sounds like there's something significant you need to share with Jayden. Let’s start.”I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. I look at Jayden, his eyes are filled with worry. “I met with Steve,” I say, my voice steady, but I can feel the tension coiled in my stomach. “Steve Halley. My fath…my sperm donor. That creature is barely human let alone a father.”Jayden’s eyes widen, and his face pales. “You what? Winona, are you serious? That man is dangerous.”“I know,” I say quickly. “Which is why I had Gordon with me, hidden from Steve. I wasn’t stupid about it, Jayden.”“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me go with you?” His voice is tight, barely controlled. I can see the hurt and the fear mixing in his expression, and it tears at me.“I didn’t wa
(Jayden)The thought of listening to Winona interact with Steve makes my skin crawl, but I know we need to do this. We need to face it together.Barnaby nods at Winona, who pulls out her phone. “Whenever you’re ready,” he says calmly. “Winona, you stop the recording whenever you feel Jayden’s anger or you feel overwhelmed and need a break. You’re in control.”Winona presses play, and Steve’s voice crackles through the speakers.It’s harsher than I remember, filled with that familiar venom. The same voice that’s haunted Winona her entire life, and now it’s seeping into my consciousness.Steve starts with his usual bullshit—taunting, throwing out his twisted version of reality. I glance at Winona, but she’s staring straight ahead, her face a mask of calm. I know her too well to think she’s unaffected. She’s just holding it together. To be honest, so am I.“...You’re lucky I took care of you, protected you,” Steve sneers. “I could’ve made a lot more money off you—”Winona pauses the reco
(Winona)The following week, we flew into my old city early this morning. I’ve never been back on this side of it since the day I was taken to live with Anne. I didn’t ever want to come back.My hands are shaking. All of me is. The memories make me want to run away as fast as I can. The nightmare I lived here. Those moments replay in my mind. The fear. The hunger. The pain. The loneliness. All the horrors are reawakened.The house stands in front of me, the same house I grew up in, but somehow different. It’s still just as rundown I remember, but there’s a sense of care now—a small attempt at making it better.The windows are clean, the front steps swept, and there are even a few potted plants by the door. It’s like someone put a fresh coat of paint on a sinking ship.I hesitate, my hand hovering just above the doorknob. Part of me wants to walk right in, like I used to when I was a kid, but I can’t. Not now. Not after all these years. I have no clue who lives here.Jayden stands bes
(Winona)I glance around the living room. There’s a peninsula bench dividing the space. Over that, the small kitchen. I know up the hall there are two bedrooms, but I was never allowed in those. If I ever did peak in, I got a beating. Now I know why.It’s the same layout. The same place.But I can see the signs of care—clean dishes stacked in the sink corner, fresh flowers in a chipped vase. Furnishings that are older but not the trash we once had here. She’s been trying. It’s not much, but it’s something.Somehow, amongst the dilapidated structure, this place looks and feels like a home. Not my home but a home.I can’t help but wonder how she’s made ends meet all these years. It’s been over eighteen years.“I got help. Did some courses. Learned how my experience could help me help others. I do social work part time. It isn’t much but we live simple lives.” It’s like she’s read my mind.I nod. “That’s great.”“I can’t work any more hours because of the trauma I suffered. I can only do
(Ashlyn) I sit on the edge of my narrow bed, the cold, sterile walls of the facility pressing in on me. The room is small, with nothing more than a bed, a table, and a chair. It’s a far cry from the luxury I was used to, but it’s fitting. I don’t deserve anything better. Not after everything I’ve done.The silence here is deafening in its way, but it gives me time to think, to reflect on everything that’s led me to this point. I’ve spent countless hours replaying the past in my mind, dissecting every action, every decision, every hurtful word.I’ve talked to my psychiatrist and, more importantly, listened.And I’ve come to realize just how wrong I was. How wrong Judy is.About everything.But it’s not just the talks and the thinking, there’s a higher power at play here. Now I know there’s something out there bigger than all of us, it was easy to accept responsibility. Easy for me to want to be a better person.When I think about Winona and Jayden, there’s a knot of guilt that tigh