“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.”
The reporter seems satisfied with the answer, because he changes topic slightly. “Yes, let’s talk about free,” he says. “Ember, if you have been locked away for most of your life, what’s it like to be free? How are you adjusting?”
“It’s scary,” I say softly but then clear my throat before speaking loudly again. “I’ve read about a lot of this stuff—life—but to actually see it, hear it… it’s scary.”
“Ember is adjusting well. It’s going to be a slow process, and we’re trying to introduce her to modern society in baby steps,” Christopher adds. “My family, friends, and I plan to be with her every step of the way.”
“And what about you?” the reporter asks. “You’ve been gone for months. I’m sure there were points in captivity that you feared you may never be free again. How are you adjusting to being back?”
“It’s a process too,” Christopher admits. “I’m starting to get back to work, trying to get my normal routine back. But that man, Richard, really messed with me.” He looks at me and takes my hand in his. “My focus is primarily on Ember right now, however. I feel this need to protect her, even though mentally she’s by far the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
My heart feels as if it erupts in happiness. Strong? Christopher considers me strong?
He’s complimented me many times, but nothing is so rewarding as hearing the word strong. I’ve never been one to think that is a word to describe me, and yet Christopher believes it does.
The reporter nods as if he too agrees I’m strong and then asks, “Is it true Richard could still be alive and on the run? Do you believe he’s still out there?”
I think the reporter is asking me, but Christopher answers. “When Ember and I were leaving the burning town, we saw Richard run into the main house, which was engulfed in flames. We assumed he died but were later told they never found his body. So yes. He could still be alive, and he could still be out there.”
“Are you afraid of your ‘Papa Rich’?” the reporter asks me. “Are you afraid he may find you again and take you back? He’s a serial killer. Do you fear he may come to you and Christopher and finish the job?”
I notice that the reporter used the name Papa Rich rather than Richard, and I don’t know why. But regardless, I answer, “He can be a very dangerous man.”
Even admitting the words has me trembling. This is the most I’ve had to think of Richard and my past since arriving in New York, and I’m reaching my max. I hate hearing him be referred to as a serial killer, even though I suppose in definition he is.
He killed a lot of people.
Not once. Not twice. A lot.
So many screams and people begging for their lives. So many innocent lives gone forever.
I need air. I need a break. I need to stop being looked at like I’m a zoo animal.
“Ember, did Papa Rich ever abuse you?
“He was a very strict man.”
“Did he ever sexually abuse you?”
My face heats at the thought. How could someone think such a thing, and yet… Papa Rich did bad, bad things. “No.”
He looks at Christopher. “Richard forced you to marry Ember. Did he also force you to consummate the marriage?”
“I’m not comfortable answering this question,” Christopher says calmly. “Intimate details about Ember and me are private.”
The reporter is clearly not happy with the answer. “Were you expected to be married as a true husband and wife would be? Did Richard want children to come from the marriage?”
This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be talking about… sex. It’s sinful. It’s wrong.