It takes a particular kind of emptiness to do that, to wear the face of a comforting relative over the work of a murderer for five patient years, and the people in that warden’s office, hardened as most of them were, felt the cold of that emptiness settle over the room as they understood the full shape of what they were looking at.

Elena had spent five years being grateful to the man for the thing that had been, all along, the reason he destroyed her.

Now, in a whisper, it had occurred to her all at once, and the horror of it was almost too large to hold.

Chapter 10 — The Demand

“Elena!” Warden Mitchell’s voice cut sharply across the room, snapping her back into her body.

He had appeared in the doorway of the visitation room, drawn by the guards’ unease, and now he stood with his brow furrowed, taking in her shaking hands and her wide, wild eyes.