Page 75

"V…" I trail off, not knowing how to help her.

"It hurts… but I have to pretend it doesn't," she whispers.

"What does? What hurts?" I immediately imagine Miles hurting her even more, trying to take her pain threshold to a different extreme every time. In my mind, I can't help but see her bloody and bruised, but there's barely a mark on her flesh.

"He likes it when I'm on my hands and knees," she starts, her voice small, "naked…" she drifts off and I frown.

Naked?

"There's something poking inside my body, and it hurts. Every time…" She takes a deep breath. "And you're not there to help me through it," she says the last words on a sob, tears flooding down her cheeks.

I move closer to her, slowly wrapping my arms around her body, and for the first time she allows my touch.

I don't understand what's happening to her at first. It takes me some time before I fully realize what's poking her body every time, and what Miles is doing to my sister.

And I only do when it happens to me too, during one of Vanya's absences when a guard sneaks inside our cell.

Pinned down, and stripped of everything, I can only hope it doesn't last. Almost triple my size, I don't stand a chance as he pushes his elbow into my nape, holding me in place as he fondles my butt.

No matter how much I try to move, or yell in protest, it's in vain as he shoves himself inside of me, my body screaming in pain as he tears me apart. As much as my body wants to reject him, the strength of his assault is no match for a child's body. I feel his nasty hardness buried inside me, the pain unbearable as he digs himself deeper before retreating.

At some point I just stop fighting, holding myself still as he thrusts in and out of me, the smell of his sweaty body on top of my own threatening to make me sick.

But even as I hear his grunts on top of me, all I can think is my sister. My baby sister who had to endure this violation time after time, withdrawing deeper into herself and rejecting even her brother's touch—blood of her blood.

It's only then that I truly understand what Vanya has to go through every time Miles calls on her, and I don't think I can bear it.I don't think I can live knowing that someone hurts my baby sister like this.

I need to do something about it.

It's the turning point as I realize I must save my sister somehow. Because she's all that matters. I can take anything.

Rape. Pain. Torture.

I'll bear everything as long as I can spare her.

Armed with staunch conviction, the method to get the attention off her comes to me during our consults.

Each time he cuts into my skin, asking my pain level, I close my eyes, willing my body to obey me, and I say the lowest number I can. I continue to grit my teeth even as his experiments grow in size, when he's no longer satisfied with needles and now requires knives to cut into our flesh.

I bear it even when I see him peel the skin back of my arm, unveiling my veins and muscles.

In fact, this particular experiment finally gains me his attention.

"Maybe I was wrong," he notes, studying my reactions as he pokes and prods at my exposed arm.

After so much time around blood and knives, I'm already desensitized to even seeing my own naked flesh.

"We'll see," he comments, moving back to Vanya.

This ishertime to put on a show. I'd asked her—begged her—to cry and wail the moment he'd cut into her flesh. To not hold it in and not take refuge in me. To simply let it out.

One questioning gaze in my direction and I nod. The moment the knife touches her arm, she starts screaming in pain. Miles' eyes widen in horror as if he can't believe what's happening.

He keeps on cutting, but Vanya keeps on screaming.

Until he's done.

Removing his gloves, he throws them on the ground, stomping out of the room and letting one of his assistants come in and sew us back together.