If he gets into my head again like that, I will lose. My ear is still sore from that wraith spider, and my skin crawling from those roaches.

The bugs . . . the bugs he played with in the forest, which he was so upset with his sister for throwing out. That memory forms a source of his strength and his terror now. He can raise it at will and use it against me.

I rise out of bed and swipe the book out from under it. If I get into his head, I could know what to expect. None of his tricks would surprise me, because I’d know everything he wrote about. And I’d always be one step ahead.

I don’t have much longer, because I can’t take much more of this.

I’m nearly at the end of the book—just a few entries left.

Nearly to the bottom of what turned him into the monster he is today.

Sawyer

Dear Diary,

I don’t know what day it is. This may be the account of the end of my life. But I’m not sure yet. Today went very badly. I stayed home. Wore the XL shirt from Lanier Lake Vacation Bible School all day because it reminded me of the gown I wore in the clinic. Felt too depressed to move, but I went to the couch when Uncle Rod came to fix the ceiling fan.

He called me back into the room, so I mustered up the strength to return. He was on a little stepladder, fooling with the fan. Said he wanted me to watch him do it. Took the fan blades down. Didn’t offer any instructions. Just wanted me to watch. Asked me about college. I told him I hadn’t decided yet if I wanted to go. Spotted Momma’s tote bag on the counter—she’d left it and would probably realize when she got to the diner.

Rod came off the ladder, said my momma was speaking up for me again and I couldn’t let her keep doing that. I said I know, I gotta stand up for myself. He said if I leave this place he’ll miss me, and I said me too, even though that was a lie—I don’t care about my relationship with Rod at all.

He took off his tool belt and left the room. “Come on, Sawyer.”

I followed, we stopped in the den, and he held out his arms for a hug. “Bring it in.”

I know Uncle Rod isn’t a hugger. I wasn’t thinking. Just doing what he said. So we hugged.

I don’t think Rod has friends.

He stuck his fingers through my belt loops and unbuttoned my pants. “Just relax.”