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But there are no real markers with therapy, nothing to say, “Here, I’ve reached this point, I’ve made progress.” It’s just a gradual shift so that one day you wake up and realize you don’t think like that anymore, or you’ve slept through the night for a while now, and maybe this is the new normal.
“What’s happening with my family?” “I’ve got people at your parents’ house, and there’s an agent with your sister.” “Okay.” “We’ll take care of them. That’s what we do.”
Suuuuure. That's what they all say.
“People only listen when women expose their pain, I suppose. Why do you think it’s like that?”
“Emma,” she breathes. She looks up and holds Brown’s gaze. “He’s searching for Emma.”
ofc
“Are you here to discover more information you could doubtless figure out on your own?
my goodness
“But Huxton never posed his victims. He never displayed them in public places. He never gave them wedding bouquets.” “Does John do that?” Simon smiles, sharklike. “What a sweet fellow.”
...
“Oh, Emma, you know how these things happen—you lose your temper. It’s not the same thing at all.”
huh...
Emma hears her voice lose tone. “I don’t find the interest of murderers flattering.” “But it’s a compliment, isn’t it? Pretty girls love to have the boys swooning over them.”
I forget too easily what he did
“Control is only potent when it’s wielded,
For some reason, killing eleven people gets you a criminal insanity plea, but killing twelve people somehow pushes you over the edge of the legal cliff, even if the twelfth person you kill happens to be a mass murderer of teenagers.…”
🤷🏼♀️ Ig we'll never know
“You’ll be able to narrow down a location. A hunting ground.”
They better not use her as bait 😭
“Use me as bait,” Emma says.
Ohh girlyyy 😭
“Are you insane?” Bell rounds on her, furious. “Do you think there’s any possible way that I would let you do this alone?”
😏
“I’m glad he’ll be with you,” Kristin counters, packing up her makeup bag. “I don’t wholly trust the police to look after you, but I know Mr. Bell will.
♡♡♡
“Miss Lewis, let me say this again—I’ve worked with a lot of maximum-security prisoners, a lot of serial offenders. I treat them all the same, with the utmost caution.”
You say that now...
The chair is locked down to keep it from rolling, and Simon is secured to the chair with canvas webbing. In addition to his blue asylum scrubs, he is wearing a white straitjacket and leg restraints. He has also been fitted with a grotesque mask, like a veterinarian’s dog muzzle. Behind the wire of the muzzle, his lower face—mouth, chin, cheekbone to cheekbone—is entirely covered by a thick band of black leather.
Holy
“I came here with you to show you,” Travis blurts suddenly. “I want you to see that you can trust me. That I’m on your side. That I choose you. Emma, I would choose you over an FBI order every time.”
Girly is playing them so well 😭
Her god is a more efficient killing machine than she could ever have imagined.
They calm a little together. Emma has to keep blinking tears away. Nobody gave her those words when she needed them. But she can give them now to another girl, and feel them unfurl inside, feel them take root.
Travis was right—she is a fucking force of nature. She is the maelstrom. And she is mighty.
She doesn’t look happy. That’s the first thing that comes into focus, how unhappy she looks. And Travis thinks that’s just shameful, because if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s Emma. When he’s able to scrape himself up off this hard cement floor, he’s going to make it his mission in life to ensure she’s happy.
Travis’s gaze snaps to Simon’s. “No, you’d just bite off their face.”
know maybe you shouldn't provoke the guy holding the gun
Will you make the same mistake as he? Will you offer to take dear Emma’s place and—” “Yes,” Travis cuts in immediately, and Emma’s heart breaks into a million pieces.
“If he wants me, he can have me.” Travis drags his gaze away from Simon long enough to burn his eyes into hers. “So long as you’re safe, it doesn’t matter.”
Something else he has never seen before: Emma, open. Tears leaking down her cheeks as she clasps his hand and bends closer, presses her forehead gently to his. And my god, what he feels for this girl. His torn heart leaps inside his broken chest, and it should be painful, but somehow it isn’t.
