In no time at all the four of them were sitting down to a home cooked meal, and Nate had to admit; if only to himself, that he was feeling more confident, and that was in some part due to the two cups of coffee he had along with his breakfast.
It had also given him time to get his thoughts together, so that when Ms Riley did raise the subject he was ready with answers.
"Both Grace and Jack have told me a little about what happened earlier, but I'd like it if you could go through everything again."
"Grace saw some of my scars, along with the brand that Charles had burnt on to my skin. She thought that something about the crest seemed familiar, but wasn't sure why. Then after thinking about it some more she realized it was because it was in a photograph she had taken. Which she then showed to Jack and I. It's definitely the Sinclair crest, except..."
Nate paused trying to figure out the best way to tell the next part of the story. He sighed, a mix of frustration and confusion running through him.
Even now, when he was sure of what he was seeing, or rather who he wasn't seeing, it was still a leap. Especially when he couldn't provide any proof, except for his memories.
"Nate, you had the strength to be in the same room as your stepfather, to let others see your scars, I know it's scary going back there, but this is important." Ms Riley's voice was soothing, and he understood how she had earned her reputation as one of the country's best child and adolescent psychologists.
He saw that Grace had printed out a few copies of the photograph under scrutiny, one of which was in front of Ms Riley.
"Okay so I know the scar is small, and not as raised as mine, but it is definitely the crest." He pointed out the way the design had Charles' initials intertwined with a symbol, that even now he still hadn't yet discovered the significance of.
"When he commissioned the branding irons, he had three made, three different sizes of crest, as well as his signet ring. The one he used on me was the largest; the next size I believe he used on my mother, but I never had the chance to have that confirmed."
He couldn't help shuddering at the idea of his mother volunteering to have that mark burned onto her skin, but it was the most likely scenario.
"That night. That last night in the house, was possibly the worst of my life. The beatings had started maybe three days before. I had been thrown into the box in the basement, and only for Maria sneaking me water and small amounts of food, I would have been too weak to protect myself."
Nate felt as if he was in a tunnel, the kitchen disappearing before his eyes, his vision becoming distorted.
"The house was full of visitors, special friends of my stepfather, who had certain privileges, so long as they left no permanent marks. The doctor used to beat me and then give me pain medication." Nate's distaste and hatred was dripping from his every word.
"Every now and then I would hear shouts of pain, and I can remember thinking that maybe they were fighting among themselves. There were other noises, that to this day I can't bring myself to focus on, because I know what will happen if I do."
"On the final night, I was dragged out of the basement to be cleaned, which meant being hosed down with ice cold water, and then given loose clothing and trainers. Then I was brought to the library, and saw things no child should ever have to see. And I was a child, no matter what anyone else says." Nate turned to look at Ms Riley, pleading with her to understand what he couldn't say.
"Oh my dear boy, you are not to blame, for anything that happened to you. Just know that you are loved, that you were loved. Nothing you ever tell us will be used as a weapon against you." At these words, at the vehemence in her voice, he broke down, crying for the lost boy he had been, and who he still was in some ways.
"Do you want to take a break Nate, get some fresh air?" Ms Riley spoke softly. He shook his head slightly, wanting to continue while he still could.
"They tried to get me to have something to eat, encouraged me to have alcohol and then when I refused they gave me water. That's why they had kept me starved, my stepfather wanted me so hungry and thirsty that I would accept any form of nourishment they gave me. I pretended that the food would make me sick, and made it look as if I was drinking."
"My head was already reeling from what I was seeing. Maybe if I had taken some of the water the pain wouldn't have been so bad when Charles produced the branding iron. He had a few of his minions show off the brands they had willingly had done."
"Of course it was the smallest of the irons, but I think that is what caused some of the screams I had heard earlier. They hadn't been fighting, just having some sadistic crest pressed on to their skin." He could still clearly see the pride on the faces of those who had been stupid enough to be branded.
"Then it was my turn, and of course it was important that there would be no doubt about who owned me. Charles actually tossed a coin to decide where it would go, then the doctor mentioned something about there being more pain receptors on the chest, and well, you've all seen it." Nate paused, trying again to push back the memory of the look on his mother's face when his screams had filled the library.
"The doctor was meant to look after the brand, while it was healing, but as I managed to get out that night, it never got the aftercare it really needed. That's probably why it didn't respond properly to the laser treatment my Gramps organized."
"You know we are still looking out for someone who will be able to treat the scars, and we won't give up. Technology and procedures are always evolving." Ms Riley spoke in a matter of fact way; not that she was uncaring, instead she didn't want him to give up hope. He just shrugged his shoulders, the mark was a part of him now; almost like a talisman.
"I must have passed out at some point, and when I became aware of my circumstances again, I really wished I hadn't. The party, for lack of a better word, was reaching new levels of depravity. I'm guessing they had moved on to drugs, and the atmosphere in the room was suffocating."
"Charles, seemed to know that I was awake, because he dragged me over to where one of his minions was holding on to a girl, around my age. She was out of it, drugged for sure. I was told that this was Maddison, she was in love with me, and that we would be getting married when she was of age. She would move in to the house for the six months before the wedding so that she could learn from my mother."
Nate swallowed hard, once again hearing his stepfather's cruel voice describing things that his new wife would learn from Charles. "He made it sound like he was doing something nice for me, and what was even more disturbing was that Maddie's father had no issue with what was happening or being said."
"For failing to appreciate the gift my father was giving me I was thrown to the floor and made to watch Maddie being branded. It was the smallest of the irons, which was apparently saved for the Maidens of Sinclair."
"Her father; he was the minion holding her, watched his daughter being tied to my stepfather's desk, and then held her head as the iron was placed on her neck. The silence was so eerie, like whatever drugs she had been given left her awake but unaware of what was happening to her." Nate's voice dried up, and he couldn't say anything else.
When he had first started speaking he had expected to tell the full story of that night, including how he got away, but it was all too much for him. The important details, the most relevant ones he had given, but just to be sure he repeated them.
"The brand was to her neck, and the smallest size possible." He pointed to the picture, the mark on the girl's shoulder, and with her hair pulled up onto a high bun, the absence of a brand on her neck was glaringly obvious, when you knew what you were looking for.
"So if the girl in the library was Maddie, then who the hell has been running the school all these years?" Grace asked quietly
"And what happened to the girl I saw in the library?" Nate could only hope that she had been able to escape his stepfather's clutches, but as 'Maddie McKenzie' seemed so important to his plans, it seemed unlikely. Then he asked the
one question that kept running through his head:
"How are we meant to find someone that nobody knows is missing?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Grace stayed quiet the entire time Nate was speaking, trusting that Mimi, who was sitting beside him would know how to help him through the ordeal. When she had first seen his scars, she had done her best not to show any pity or fear, knowing that it would hurt his feelings, perhaps make him feel even more self conscious about the marks that marred his body.
It was something that she tried to repeat as he detailed his last few days in the same house as Charles Sinclair. There was an eeriness to the monotone of his voice, the more he spoke, the more he retraced his past, the further any and all emotions seemed to bleed from his voice.
It was as if the only way he could get through his account was to disassociate from his memories. If Jack or Mimi had noticed; and she was certain that they had, they made no mention of it. Mimi offered words of encouragement when Nate's own words seemed to fail him, when he appeared in danger of being lost to his pain.
Currently Jack and Mimi were having a hushed conversation in the lounge. She could hear drawers being opened, papers being shuffled about, but nothing they were saying could be heard properly.
Nate didn't appear to have even blinked in the last ten minutes, it was as if he was frozen where he sat at the kitchen table. Like he was physically in the room, but mentally somewhere else, and she dreaded to think about what he was seeing or reliving.
At one point he had accepted a cup of coffee, but his hand had trembled so much that he had spilled the hot drink over his skin, so he'd set it aside, all without saying a word, not even to acknowledge that he his hand was now showing signs of a minor burn. She was really struggling, she wanted to be able to help him, at the very least to apply something soothing to his scalded hand, but she didn't want to startle him.
"Belle?" Nate spoke so softly that she almost didn't hear him. "Could you, would you?" His voice trailed off, unable to verbalize his wishes. His eyes though, his eyes conveyed all that his words could not, and as so often was the case when around him, Grace was moving before she knew it.
Silently asking for permission, the slightest nod of his head was all she needed to sit herself carefully on his lap. One arm rested around his shoulder, while her head rested on his chest. Her free hand lay over his heart, which was beating rapidly.
They sat in silence, the only sounds in the house coming from Jack and Mimi who continued to search for something. Not even a curse from Mimi was enough to disturb them, although at some point Nate had begun to run his hand gently over her back.
Eventually he seemed to push back the worst of the memories that he had relived, his heartbeat was less frantic and if she wasn't mistaken he even felt less tense.
"Thank you my Belle," his voice sounded stronger, more sure. She raised her head, her eyes sweeping over his face, noting the slight sheen of unshed tears that lingered.
As long as she lived she would never understand the evil inside a person that would hurt a child, that would show no remorse for both the mental and physical scars that they had taken pleasure in causing. Yet Nate survived.
His was a daily battle, something that she had known but never fully understood until today. Maybe she was naive for believing that good would always triumph, but that was before she knew the extremes that Charles, his friends and his minions would go to.
Sure some might think that Nate was mistaken in his recollections; if not making it up entirely, to punish the man who had dared to marry his mother. But she dared anyone to listen to him speak about his childhood and deny the truth to his words.
He had been starved, savagely beaten multiple times and then dragged literally kicking and screaming into an even more nightmarish scene, that he at his young age could never have made up.
Then there was the brand that still marred his skin. His description was so vivid that Grace had no trouble believing that it had happened just as he said. The same was true for what he said regarding Maddie, and where the mark had been put as well as the instrument used.
There had to be a way to confirm Maddie's identity, and based on the increased volume of Jack and Mimi's conversation, they were working on finding it. So for the moment she would stay where she was, and be ready to help with whatever plan of action was decided on.
It was somewhat jarring when the land-line phone rang, causing Grace to jump. The noise seemed harsh and out of place. Perhaps because it was so rare for it to ring, she felt a sense of dread as the mechanical tone of the phone continued to fill the room.
"Are you not going to answer that?" Nate asked her quietly, looking around the kitchen to see where the phone was.
She just shook her head, "Nope. The only people I want to talk to are already in the house with me." He accepted her answer, and as his hands seemed to have become more steady, she decided that she would make a fresh pot of coffee. The house phone; which had fallen silent for a minute, began to ring again. Once, twice then Jack's voice could be heard.
"Of course I know where she is." A pause. "Oh really, now you're concerned about her safety?" Grace and Nate exchanged looks at the tone of Jack's voice.
"It's just a shame that you neglected your duty of care to her yesterday. No you listen to me, I don't want to hear any excuses and I certainly don't want to hear you blame a student who I know for a fact was not on school property yesterday. Maybe you should try getting all the correct facts first, rather than wasting my time." Another pause, and then they heard a short laugh from Jack.
"If you think that I am going to let my daughter anywhere near that school until she feels safe, then you are even more stupid than I gave credit for."
Whatever the other person said in reply; and Grace guessed that it was Principal Carter, only succeeded in angering Jack even further. If the man wasn't such an idiot, then she might feel sorry for the school's Principal, but he was an idiot, so he deserved everything that Jack said to him.
"Are you really trying to threaten me? Maybe you should have a word with your associates first, ask them what happens to those who threaten me and mine?"
Jack's voice was so cold, she was amazed that Principal Carter continued to speak. Nate caught her eye, he was just as interested in the one sided conversation that they were openly listening to.
"Don't worry Carter I have no intentions of spending any time in your company. My mother on the other hand; well she is very much looking forward to having a nice civil conversation with you. Goodbye."
Again Grace was tempted to feel sorry for Principal Carter, Jack's statement implying correctly that Mimi would eviscerate the cowardly educator with her words that could be sharper than a knife.
"Coffee?" She asked moving from where she sat on Nate's lap, immediately missing the feel of being in his arms. He stood slowly, his hand reaching out to push some of her hair behind her ear, the motion so gentle and caring that she felt sparks where he had touched her.
There was a look in his eyes that she couldn't quite interpret but the darkness from earlier was; for the time being, all gone. They worked together to clear the table of their earlier meal, and soon the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. She watched in awe as Nate quickly prepared a batch of cookies, loving how at home he seemed to feel.
"So how much of that phone call did you hear?" So caught up in their tasks that they hadn't noticed the return of Mimi and Jack. The former was placing document folders on the table, while the latter waited for an answer.
"All of it," Nate replied. "Though some context would be great, there's only so much we can guess about." Like her earlier cursing, Mimi couldn't hold back an out of character snort of laughter. Not that there was any mirth to it, rather it was mocking and let Grace and Nate know exactly how she felt about the school principal.
"You have several missed calls from the school office and one from Victoria. Apparently in his wisdom, Carter felt it nece
ssary to report your truancy to the board of the Foundation." Jack's contempt was plain to hear.
"Dear Principal Carter; acting out of concern of course, was worried that you were not meeting the requirements set out in your grandfather's will. He is naturally, only too happy to overlook the missed time so long as it's signed off by your parents."
"Seriously?" Grace couldn't believe the sheer level of incompetence being shown by the man.
"Do they not talk to one another? Like I get the minions all want something and they are all trying to prove to that monster that they are of value to him, but this is just ridiculous."
She knew that she was ranting but she was reaching her limits when it came to Charles Sinclair and his cronies.
"My stepfather keeps them in line with lies, with blackmail and the promise of what he can do to them if they dare to question or ignore his orders. There is no way that he told any of them about what happened yesterday. And Brad will be so worried about himself that he'll be only too happy to stay quiet."
What Nate said made sense, in the twisted way that Grace had come to associate with the actions of Nate's stepfather, and yet.
"Some thing's not quite right." At Nate's raised eyebrow she continued hurriedly, "Okay there is a lot that is not right about this whole thing, and we know that your stepfather lies; about everything, but surely your basic information is a matter of public record. The simple stuff like how old you are."
"So even if he's in your stepfather's thrall, there is an easy way to find your date of birth. Not to mention the notice of your birth, which I can imagine; as the first born grandchild of a legacy family, would have at least been in the local papers."
"Of all the things that he is lying about, why is this so important for Mr Sinclair, that he keeps pushing this particular lie?" Grace could see that Nate, as well as Jack and Mimi were considering her questions.
"Charles had obviously lied about the will. The request was that I spend the year here, in Silver Glade. It was my decision to return to school, only as I thought it would help my investigation, but I guess the way it was worded, it could be seen that school was mandatory." Grace could tell that he was running scenarios through his head.
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