Sarah
I wait for Matthew's reaction, but he isn't saying anything. "Matthew?" I ask.
"What did that bastard say to you?" Matthew's voice is rough.
"He...he said he wants to meet me," I tell him.
Matthew's jaw tightens. "He what?" he finally says, his voice a low growl.
"I said no, of course," I add quickly. "But Matthew, something else happened. He...he called me princess and I remembered something."
Matthew goes still. His eyes are locked on mine, searching my face, his own full of something between dread and disbelief.
"You... remembered?" he asks. "What did you remember?"
I nod, my throat suddenly dry. "Just a flash. But it felt real. He was there and he asked me to sit on his lap."
"That sick bastard," Matthew mutters.
"But I didn't do it!" I quickly add. "I ran away from him. I always ran away. I think even as a six year old girl, I knew something was wrong about him. Like he was a bad man."
