to rent it,” Josh began to explain but a spark of recognition ignited in the man’s face as he cut in.
“I know you,” he said, pointing at Willow who immediately turned her eyes toward the ground. “I saw you on the news. You used to live here. The guy who killed his parents, that’s your brother right?”
Willow couldn’t speak. The last thing she expected to happen within her first five minutes here was to be recognized. She’d mentally separated herself from everything this place represented. It was a stark reminder that this wasn’t something she hovered above and watched happen, she’d lived all of this.
“Yes,” Josh cut in, stepping forward between the super and Willow slightly. “You were here then?”
“I was, I remember it all. I remember you. You were little. All these years I thought your brother was just a psycho but the news said they let him out.”
“He was protecting me,” Willow mustered, regaining her voice with a shocking fierceness. “They let him out because he didn’t deserve to be in there.”
“That’s what I heard,” the man said with wide eyes as though he was looking at a ghost. “People were saying your parents were like monsters or something. That they had you tied up in there? If I had known that…” The man’s tiny voice trailed off. His face wrenched with guilt.
“It’s ok,” Willow assured him, not wanting anyone else to carry the remorse she did every day. “They were monsters, but I don’t think many people knew.”
“Why do you want to see this place again? I would think you’d never want to come back.”
“I wasn’t the only one,” Willow started, the words catching in her throat. “There were others and I want to try to remember. Maybe help them. Find them.”
“There were other girls kept up there? The news didn’t say anything about that. How did they keep them so quiet? How did we not know?” The man put his hand over his forehead as though his brain was hurting from the shocking news.
“They were pretty good at scaring the girls into being quiet. They had their ways,” she gulped out, hoping he wouldn’t ask her to elaborate. One of the most terrifying things about talking about her past was the inevitability of someone asking her why she never tried to get away. She could see their faces were filled with the burning question, Why not run? Why not scream? Why not fight? It was hard to explain, even harder to admit.
“That’s very brave of you to come back and want to help,” the man said, pulling a large ring of keys from his belt loop. “My son lives in the apartment now. It was empty for a long time after. Eventually I rented it to my boy once he was old enough. Come on up. He’s at work and won’t mind if you look around.”
“Thank you.” Josh smiled as he looked over at Willow and clearly expected her to be smiling too. That was not the case. The fact that she was moments away from stepping back into a hell she’d convinced herself she’d dreamed up was not something she could smile about. The excitement had waned. Evaporated really.
“No,” she said, her legs cemented to the ground. “I can’t.” Her words felt far away, as if someone else were speaking them.
“It’s really not a problem. My son won’t mind. He wasn’t much older than you were at the time but he knows what happened. He’ll understand.”
Willow’s eyes glazed over with the threat of tears as she locked her gaze with Josh, speaking to him without words.
“I really appreciate your time today. I think she might not be ready to go inside. She needs more time,” Josh explained, stepping sideways and using his body to shield Willow from the building. It was a hollow attempt but Willow took the act to heart.
“Here,” the man said, fishing in his pocket and pulling a business card out. “You call me. My name is Tony. Anytime you want to see the apartment, I’ll let you in.”
Josh took the card and flashed a grateful smile. As