I thought I could save him, be the mother Adam never had. I begged him not to do it, that the kid was just being a kid. But he was just so angry. And then after, he came to my house, and he threatened to… to gut me like a pig if I told anyone, if I turned him in. I wanted to, but I was so scared. I mean, he had pictures that he forced me to look at. Oh God, I don’t want to go to prison. I know I should’ve been brave enough to call the authorities, but… Oh, please, don’t let this be happening.

Then she’d lifted her head, all evidence of tears erased, and sneered. ‘Just in case you’re toying with the idea of going to the police, who do you think they’ll believe, you or me? And just for the record, I will gut you.’ With each promise, she’d tossed a Polaroid photograph of the boy in various stages of his torturous death.

Afterwards, Adam had run from her house wanting nothing more than to confide in and seek advice from his father, but that would’ve meant he’d have to confess that he’d secretly been in touch with his sister for the past few years, that he had neglected to heed the warning that Alex was dangerous.

But his father was gravely ill, and Adam was too frightened the truth would do what his failing heart hadn’t yet managed. And so, he’d kept his secret, only whispering the truth to the closed casket that held the withered remains of the bravest man he’d ever known. That was two days before Adam’s eighteenth birthday, and his shame had kept him from ever visiting his father’s grave again.

On his worst days, he would play the what if game. What if he’d never discovered that photograph in his father’s closet when he was five? What if his father hadn’t sat him on his lap and told him that the infant in the picture was him, that the woman was his birth mother, and that the young girl was his half-sister? Adam vividly remembered the fear in his fearless father’s eyes, the way his arms had tightened protectively when he’d uttered Alexandra’s name as he explained that taking Adam away was what was best for all of them. That haunted expression had stayed with his father for days, and that was enough to convince Adam’s young mind that Alex was a monster, complete with Satan’s horns and a tail to boot. Because nothing ever frightened his father, not even the boogey man.