Chapter 9

Irolled onto my side as Elijah got into bed with me, and tucked myself up into a ball.

I would learn to crave his touch while I avoided it, and hoped that maybe one day, he would understand.

He threw himself against the mattress when he realized I had no intention of curling into his arms like I always did when we had a roof over our head, and let out a forlorn sigh.

“Aunt Maisie, did I fuck up somewhere? I can’t fix what’s wrong if I don’t know what I did.”

His tone was strained, melancholy, and even a little hopeless. I wiped away a stray tear and chewed the inside of my mouth.

Mercy would have been if he gave up and fell asleep, but I was never given such a thing in my entire life. Why would I expect it now?

“Mais?”

Elijah turned on his side and placed a hand gently on my arm. But this was different; it wasn’t the kind of touch I did my best to avoid, it was one of a brokenhearted child who wanted to be reassured that everything was okay.

“I have to show you something,” I finally said when he dropped his hand.

The one thing I never wanted to have to think of again, to explain, was the only way I would get him to understand.

Elijah propped himself up on his elbows as I got to my feet. He was used to seeing my frail body, the scars that had started as welts all over my back, and even the crudely cut one at the bottom of my stomach.

“You have to promise me you’ll be okay after I do this,” I said as I slipped my thumbs into the waistband of my jean shorts.

He arched an eyebrow, but nodded.

Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and I knew he’d suffer this as bravely as he could.

With a solemn nod, I pushed my shorts down and stepped out of them, then I took a deep breath as I sat on the bed in front of him. Would he be able to see it, or would he have to feel it to know that I wasn’t lying?

I took a deep breath as I pushed the cotton fabric to the side, then spread my legs as far as they would go. Using the tips of my fingers, I pushed my lips apart and looked up into Elijah’s eyes as tears began to slowly stream down my face.

“This is why I can’t.”

His face screwed up in confusion and I sighed. He couldn’t see it. I don’t know why I thought it would have been so simple.

“Give me your hand,” I said as I held one out to him.

He dutifully leaned forward and placed a hand into my open palm. I closed his fingers into a fist, then used my thumb to free his forefinger. Gripping him gently by the wrist, I took a shaky breath as I pulled him a little closer and slid his finger into me.

Or at least, as far as it would go.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked as he recoiled almost instantly.

A grim smile slipped over my lips as I let go of my panties and got to my feet again. I reached down for my shorts, but then sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed with my back to him.

“Mama and Papa. They sewed me shut.”