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J O L I E N

Not only for the entire drive back to Silverside-no, for the whole afternoon I'd figured out exactly what I wanted to ask my father when he got back.

What were you doing at the warehouse? Do you have problems? are you a criminal These questions were just a few of the ones that kept swirling around in my head.

But when he unlocked the door that evening, went into the kitchen and, after a short "hello", went over to the stove to cook us something to eat, I only answered with a single word. Hello. That's all I could do lips.

For some reason I couldn't even explain to myself, I just couldn't make it. Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was the illusion of a perfect father that I wanted to uphold. Or the fear of destroying the image of the small, perfect family. Which suddenly seemed anything but perfect.

"Everything okay?" I winced when I heard my father's voice. Once again I was totally lost in my thoughts. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking." He nodded silently and put the pasta water on.

"Where is Silia?" I asked in surprise after a few seconds. It was already after 8:00 p.m. and actually Silia was always at home at this time and had stuck her head in some school books. Silia probably didn't have many friends She didn't want to do that either. She wanted to get a good school diploma, that was all she wanted.

"You don't remember anymore?" He seemed visibly surprised. "No, what do you mean?" "She's on a school trip." That's right, I had totally forgotten that because of all the stress with the accident. "Oh right." I replied and watched as he took a jar of ready-made sauce from the shelf and put it in a pot poured. The only thing my father mastered blindly in the kitchen were pancakes – his cooking skills were limited when it came to all the other dishes.

"There's something else," he began after a while, during which the silence that reigned in the kitchen became almost unbearable. By now he had turned around to look me straight in the eye. I slid restlessly around on the kitchen chair.

Could he have seen me after all? Did he know I was at the warehouse earlier?

I braced myself for the worst, and the dread was only amplified when he uttered the next sentence. "There's something we should discuss."

My heart was beating faster and every clear thought was swept out of my head in one fell swoop. I just sat in the chair and waited for his next words.

"It's about Amelie's rehab." I felt my heart rate settle and I exhaled with relief. I was really struggling. On the one hand I wanted him to bring up the subject he was hiding, on the other hand I was terrified to learn something having to deal with that I just couldn't handle.

My father had always been a hero to me. For our whole family. I didn't want him to become human by telling me something that would irrevocably shatter my image of him - and I was sure that if he spoke up it would. I hadn't missed Malio's reaction. He looked visibly worried.

Do you even know where you are?' he had yelled angrily. Whatever it was about the warehouse, it couldn't bode well if even Malio reacted that way.

"Jolien, are you even listening to me?" Not really. I was finding it increasingly difficult to block out my thoughts and follow the conversation. "Of course – what about rehab?" I pressed. "I'd like to accompany her." "Okay, but isn't she being treated at Silverside anyway? What does that have to do with me?" He briefly stirred the sauce, which had already started to simmer. Before she could start splashing on the tiles, though, he turned the heat down and covered the pot with the lid.

"Bekka during this time.” I gave my father a skeptical look. “Why is that?” I eyed him. But couldn't read anything suspicious from his expression. "I thought it would be better to be with a friend than to spend time alone in this house," he replied. "What's wrong with that? Besides, Silia isn't gone that long," I explained and with every word my skepticism grew.

,,That's correct. But Silia will also stay with a friend afterwards until the rehab is over." And with this answer, my father catapulted my skepticism immeasurably. Something wasn't right here!

"Why?" "Jolien, stop asking so many questions. Just do it. End of discussion!" he ended the call. "Dad, why don't you want me to stay home alone?" I gave him the chance to be honest, but he decided against it. Again.

"It's enough Jolien. I said end of discussion!" I knew my father well enough to know that the topic was really over for him. He would no longer answer my questions.

Without comment, he placed a plate of pasta in front of my nose. "I'm not hungry anymore.", I replied coldly and stood up. "Jolien. Jolien, oh come on, don't be so rude and stay here." However, his words didn't stop me from storming into my room and slamming the door behind me, to which he responded with a "Young lady, we don't slam doors here" by yelling it up from the kitchen. Very grown up!

Why hadn't I worked up the courage to ask him what was going on? Actually, I thought I was only weak on Malio. But as I sat angry on my bed, I realized that I was just inherently weak. I couldn't hold Malio, nor did I manage to confront my father.

I was really a disappointment! Through and through.

M A L I O

Enraged, I rushed into the interrogation room and grabbed Lynn by the collar of his bloodstained shirt.

"What has Mr. Chesterfield got to do with you?" Lynn raised an eyebrow in amusement. Apparently he found this very funny. I drew back and punched him. But nothing. Lynn's eyes stayed fixed on my face asked you a question!" my fist crashed into Lynn's jaw again. Once. Twice. 3 times.

"Malio!" although I knew it was Rash's voice, it barely got through to me. When his hands finally wrapped around my throbbing hand, I stopped. "You're going to kill him!"

"And would that be so bad?" I growled angrily, glancing at the completely battered face of the man who had slumped in the chair in front of me. "Let me think, Malio. Oh right, maybe because he's nothing to us dead can say more and is therefore useless." I knew Rash was right, but my anger was still there. Still so strong that it completely clouded my every clear thought and all that was left was the desire to destroy this man.

"And? He doesn't know anything that could help us anyway." "That's not quite right." Lynn's voice interrupted the argument between Rash and me. I turned to face him, fighting the urge to smash my hand, already clenched into a fist, onto his face. "What do you mean?" I asked instead.

Rash had slipped between me and the chair Lynn was sitting in to prevent further attacks from me - although that wasn't necessary. When push came to shove, we both knew I was stronger and it would be easy to push him aside and smack that stupid grin off that prick's face. I didn't like the arrogance.

This bastard knew he had something on hand that we needed - and that reassured him.

"I could tell you what your girlfriend's father has to do with us." "She's not my girlfriend!" "Anyway, Malio." Lynn's face broke into a broad grin that looked anything but friendly due to the missing teeth.

"I only have one condition." I snorted and rolled my eyes. "I won't let you go." "I don't mean that, my friend." Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. If he didn't want liberty against the information, then what did he want? What was the price for that information?

"I only want one thing," Lynn began, and after all the beatings, all the burns, and all that waterboarding, I had absolutely no idea how he got the strength to stand up and look me straight in the eye Talking to little ones. His daughter." "Forget it!" I yelled angrily and was about to punch again when Rash grabbed my arm. "Then you won't get the information you want either." Lynn replied with a shrug.

"We'll see about that." I grabbed a pair of tongs that were lying on the silver tray on the table against the wall and took a step towards him. "It's about time you finally lost a few body parts. Time see if you still think you don't need to tell me." "Go ahead, you can take everything from me, but that won't get you any closer to the information you want." Lynn's smile froze as I placed the pliers on the nail of his thumb.

His cries of pain filled the walls of the basement while I ripped out one fingernail after the other. But this endeavor also came to nothing. Lynn remained silent on the information about Jolien's father.

J O L I E N

My father forgot to mention that the start of rehab was due a week later.

So, that Friday night, I was struck with a shock when, after a soft knock, he came into my room and asked, "Have you packed up yet?" He continued to insist that I spend the next six weeks with the Morrisons should - and I let him believe that when he got better he would assume I was living with Bekka and Brandon when in fact I was still living at home.

I was 17 years old. I didn't need anyone to take care of me.

"Don't forget your school stuff," he pointed to a pile of books lying on my desk. Heck, I forgot to put them away. Now I actually had to lug them around for pretense!

"Oh right," I stuffed it into the duffel bag that was next to my bed, biting back the unnecessary eye-roll gesture.

"How's school going?" he asked casually. "Pretty good." And that wasn't even a lie. Oddly enough, everything had turned out for the better at the Academy.

La Cruel left me alone for whatever reason. It probably had something to do with the new scar that had recently appeared on his cheek. I didn't even want to know what had happened, although I feared that Malio was involved in some way - at least it would suit him. He was so impulsive that I wouldn't be surprised if he attacked La Cruel at the first opportunity. Brother-in-law or not. Well, I couldn't care less. I had what I wanted - namely my peace.

"That makes me happy. I love that you're finally taking your academic future seriously," my father replied, clearly sounding too much like Silia. This time I didn't fight the impulse and rolled my eyes before throwing a pillow at him. "Listen to sound like Silia." He fished it out of the air with one hand, then joined in my laughter. It felt so familiar. Almost like before - if it weren't for these lies that seemed to shadow everything.

"You really don't want your daughter to be treated at Silverside?" the specialist asked again, before handing the discharge papers to my father the next morning. "It's better this way," he replied curtly and put them in papers in the pocket.

He had already secured a place at a private clinic several hours from Silverside. He considered this more appropriate to ensure Amelie the necessary distance, calm and strength for her recovery.

At this point, it didn't strike me as strange that my father was so insistent on leaving Silverside. I really thought he cared about Amelie's well-being, but I guess I was wrong, as I found out firsthand just a few days after he left.

I'd succeeded in my plan and stayed at home against his will because moving in with the Marrisons just didn't feel right. Although Bekka still offered it to me every day, I always declined with thanks.

I had told her parents that my father had changed his mind, realizing that leaving the house unoccupied for an extended period of time might not be an advantage. I was glad they bought it from me. Maybe I was a better liar than I thought after all - or the Marrions were even more trusting than I was.

The move came just in time as Brandon obviously took my breakup with Malio as an encouragement to approach me. How else was his way of explaining? The way he looked at me. The fleeting touches and all the messages asking if he should come over.

Maybe it was meant to be nice. Whatever it was, I wasn't ready for it yet. Brandon was nice, no question. But he was also _just_ nice. no sparks no attraction Just nothing.

After a quick trip to the grocery store, where I twice had to escape from Brandon (who seemed to mysteriously shop whenever I did.), I pulled into the empty driveway of our house with relief.

I had started to enjoy the silence that now reigned there. A thought that not only frightened me, since I didn't mind the absence of my father or my sisters. No, it was also a thought I was ashamed of.

But I just felt emotionally dead at the moment. Which certainly had something to do with all the tragedies in my life.

The death of my mother. The relationship with Malio. Elena's death. The Separation of Malio. The engagement and the accident. And finally, the incident with my father at the warehouse.

Well, I guess at some point the human soul shut down. Gave up. Wanted nothing more than rest.

I was probably right now, at this point. I couldn't explain it any other way. Couldn't explain to myself that I actually didn't see the dark SUV parked at the side of the road under a huge birch tree.

But how? The high beams were off and in the penumbra of the tree and the late dusk, it just looked to me like a regular car parked at the curb. It wasn't until I stepped onto the porch and found the front door ajar that I hesitated for a moment.

I'd seen enough horror movies in my life to know that now was not the time to walk into that dark house with a "Hello, is that someone?". And I did it anyway. Pushed open the creaking door and groped after the light switch, which was only a few steps away on the wall.

Before I could even activate it, I heard the hiss of something falling in mid-air, followed by a deafening clank in the immediate vicinity.

I knew the hallway inside and out. Knew exactly what had broken there and the realization of it froze my hand in the air.

I knew that the vase sitting on the counter right in front of me had smashed and shattered into thousands of tiny pieces when the baseball bat hit the light-colored china.

Knew the pain on my cheek and outstretched arm came from the sharp shards flying through the air like bullets.

Knew that the shards would spread across the dresser and the old, creaking wooden floor just under the soles of my shoes as I took a panicked step to the side.

My heart was pounding against my chest so hard I feared I would pass out at any moment. I caught my breath when I saw a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. The shock of realizing that I wasn't alone in the house hit me so hard that sheer panic choked my throat and stifled every scream.

The dim light from the street lamp fell through the open door, illuminating the shadowy shapes that were gradually taking on the shape of two figures. Both were dressed in black and wore dark ski masks.

The one standing right in front of me was holding a baseball bat in his right hand and was already swinging it again. I stumbled back a few steps and glanced at the other figure standing in the living room doorway with a long knife.

A single thought manifested itself in my head alongside all the panic.

run!

My heart stopped and I seriously thought I was having a heart attack for the first time in my life.

Before I could even reach the front door, a third person came up to me and blocked the way. She cocked her head and the next moment the door was slammed in my face. I pushed the doorknob, rattling it madly, but nothing happened. She remained closed. It was probably locked from the outside. I lunged forward, ducking under the arms of the figure with the baseball bat and sprinting up the stairs.

"Stop them!" The baseball bat swooped down on me again, missing me by millimeters this time. My heart was racing, my breathing caught. Again and again the metal struck concrete, filling the house with a sound that made my blood rush frozen in your veins.

I made the mistake of stopping, glancing over my shoulder and ducking at the last moment as the baseball bat smacked against the wall. The wall that my face was in front of just a few seconds ago.

I put my hands over my head, trying to shield myself from the falling images as best I could, which stopped me for a split second. Glass shattered right at my feet.

The stranger used the moment of inattention, in which my heart was beating so hard against my chest that I blacked out, to grab my ankle. With a violent jerk he knocked me off balance and I crashed onto the steps.

"Grab her!" I cried out in panic and kicked wildly, hoping to hit him somewhere. My throat was burning from all the screams that were uncontrollably emanating from inside me. After an eternity of the masked man Step by step, pulling down, my boot, with its 8 cm high heel, finally hit a target – his face.

Cursing, he fell down the two flights of stairs, landed on his back like a ladybug, and screamed with his hands over his face. "That bitch!"

More seconds passed before I awoke from my shock. Clumsily I scrambled to my feet, bloodily slashing my hands on the small shards of glass from the picture frames—but I barely felt the burn, all I felt was fear and adrenaline. Both something that drives me. Drive me to storm further up the stairs.

My fingers were already searching for the phone that was in my pocket, but couldn't find it. Why did I always have to have so much shit with me?

Hot tears streamed down my face as I slammed the door to my room, turned the key, and piled everything in front of the door that I could carry or push there under my own steam—but it probably wouldn't keep them out for long.

I crossed the room with long strides and locked myself in the adjoining bathroom. After all, there were now two locked doors between me and these guys who would surely kill me if they made it to the bathroom. When I couldn't find the cell phone even after a second attempt, I dumped the entire contents of the bag into the sink.

I knew I should actually call the police. There was a better chance they would make it faster than the person I dialed instead.

Shivering, I pressed speed dial 1 and after the fourth ring he picked it up, which made me breathe a sigh of relief. I had already feared that he wouldn't lose any weight at all, he was capable of it. "You're calling me?" I heard Malio's haughty voice. "Malio, you have to come. Please. They're going to kill me. Please, I'm begging you." "Jolien, calm down first." A loud bang sounded from the hallway. Apparently they had found the right room. "I can't. Malio please." "Where are you? What's up?" "At home."

In a moment he was gone. Did he hang up? Stunned, I stared at the phone and what I saw there was even worse than the feeling that Malio could have hung up on.

It was worse than any feeling I've ever felt. The battery was empty. And I couldn't even make an emergency call.

I had wasted the last, perhaps most important, phone call of my life to someone I didn't even know would help me.

The feeling of helplessness was so great and so overwhelming that I slid down the door, defeated, crying hysterically and burying my face in my hands in despair.

i was lost This realization hit me with such a violent blow that it drove every last spark of hope out of my trembling body.

The beatings on my room door increased. Got louder and louder.

It certainly wouldn't be long before the door gave in to the relentless violence of these people, and then it was only a matter of time before the bathroom door did the same. I had no escape other than jumping out of the bathroom window - where the third of them was already waiting for me. So no matter what I decided, every action inevitably led to death.

A loud crack could be heard and I was sure that it came from the wood of my room door, which at that moment shattered under the force. My panic tightened my throat even more. I gasped for air, but my lungs decided to quit.

Metal met wood, scraping the floor of my room with a horrible sound, followed by heavy footsteps inexorably approaching the door. Inwardly, I braced myself that in a few seconds, the thud of the bangs would ring out again as they approached the bathroom door.

Through the haze of tears that almost completely obscured my vision, I could still make out the terrifying image of a doorknob being pushed down. A shake, followed by one, two, three hard bangs, but the door held. For now at least.

The metal slammed against the door again and again, making me wince with each hit. I pressed my hands to my mouth. Stifled the screams that erupted in my throat with each bang and the loud sobs that made my whole body tremble.

Then suddenly there was nothing more to hear.

For an infinitely long time I only heard my own heartbeat and the rushing of my blood in my ear.

Did they want to make me feel safe? Lure me out of my hiding place in the hope of getting me out of the way better and more easily?

I listened to the silence, which turned out to be quite difficult as I felt my heart beating so loud that I could hear each beat at twice the volume. But there was nothing.

A small part of me hoped. Saw the light in the hopeless darkness. Still, I didn't dare set foot in front of that door. And suddenly there were shouts. First very quietly and far away, then ever closer and louder.

"Jolien!" It was him. He was actually here.

The certainty brought even more tears to my eyes. I got to my feet, somehow pulled myself up the sink, managed to turn the key with shaky fingers and step out into my wrecked room.

"Malio?" my voice was just a hoarse whisper. "Malio!" I tried again, but my voice remained a shadow of itself. Just a whisper, barely audible.

My knees were shaking uncontrollably, as were my hands. I needed a second, needed something to take some weight off my shaky knees so I wouldn't fall over on the spot. But all the furniture I could get outside the door was destroyed.

Malio's face appeared in the huge hole that was in my bedroom door. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes when I saw his familiar face. He stared at me with a mixture of anger and concern. "Jolien!" "Malio!" I tumbled for the door, falling over debris that was once the desk, nightstand, or shelves. Before I reached it, Malio had opened it long ago and rushed towards me.

Exhausted, relieved and completely distraught, I fell into his arms. "You're here, you actually came," I stammered, sobbing against his chest. My dark mascara would completely ruin his expensive shirt—but I just couldn't fight the impulse to hug him. Calm down!" he said softly while stroking my blond hair.

Calm? How the hell am I supposed to do that?

And yet his scent, his closeness and his touch managed to regulate my pulse, slow my heartbeat, calm my breathing and stop my tears - because this man towards me had always meant security for me.