Gabriel
“Pain seized her chest as the sour odor of vomit permeated her nose. Still she clung to the porcelain god as if worshipping at its feet. Or as if it were the only thing grounding her to a world that had suddenly flipped and morphed into a strange, cruel, ruthless place.
A sob tore out of her throat, and the tears she’d been unable to check since hunching over the bowl streamed down her hot cheeks. They scalded her face, but she couldn’t stop. Exhausted, she plopped on the floor, her back thumping against the wall.
And she wept.
Wept for every boy her uncle—No! Richard! She refused to think of him as her uncle any longer—had defiled and hurt. Every boy whose innocence had been ripped away by his perverted cruelty.
Tapes. Boxes of VHS tapes, labeled Keith, Charles, Brandon. And too many others.
Bile razed a path up her throat again, and she gagged, fighting it down with a willpower she hadn’t known she possessed.
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