Page 41 of The Woman Who Couldn't Scream
She believed in liberty and justice for all.
He believed the world belonged to those who worked to win it.
She believed in education for every child regardless of race, color or gender.
He believed in educating the privileged.
She pointed out that she was less privileged than him. And smarter.
He argued for those who had earned their living or protected their inheritance or both.
She lost that argument because he was burping a newborn and seeing him wipe a big ol’ puddle of formula off his suit made her grow soft with sentiment and estrogen.
They dated. They broke up. They dated. They had the best sex in the history of the world.
He was in Johns Hopkins Carey Business School and headed for the top job at his family’s business.
She was an undergrad with nobody, not one person who cared about her.
He cared about her. Somehow, he cared.
Or so she thought.
He took her to meet his aunt and uncle, Rose and Albert Howard. On the death of his parents in a yachting accident, they had raised Benedict. The old couple was charming. So charming. Rather ditzy. Yet sharp-eyed and maybe faking it.
At the time, Merry believed in the good of all mankind. Well, not really. She wasn’t stupid. She remembered Mr. Cole. At the same time, she believed everyone should have the chance to improve themselves, to be better, to be kind, to love as much as they could.
She simply didn’t realize that some people… never love.
Benedict worked with her every morning at the day care center from 3A.M.to 8A.M.The children adored him. Ms. Sandvig adored him.
Merry loved him. She loved him so much. She thought she was making a difference in his life. She imagined because of her he saw the world with new eyes.
Then he did change her life… when he tried to kill her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The corded phone rang beside Merida’s bed, waking her out of a nightmare-haunted sleep. For a moment, she stared around the room, lost in the past. The lights were on, she still wore her clothes. What…? Where was she?
Disoriented, she snatched up the receiver.
She said, “Hello.” No sound came out of her mouth, but for the first time in years, she had tried to speak.
Unbalanced? Yes, and her bewilderment grew worse when a man’s hoarse voice whispered, “Be careful. They’re hunting you…”
She wanted to demand an explanation, to ask who was after her.
But that voice said, “Remember, Helen. You cannot scream.” He hung up, leaving her clutching the receiver so hard her knuckles were white.
She didn’t glance at the clock, didn’t give a thought to the time. She grabbed her iPad in her shaking fingers, dropped it, picked it up again. Called Kateri’s number and activated the video.
Kateri answered immediately. She was braiding her dark hair. Behind her Merida could see a shadowy living room and a brightly lit kitchen. “What is it, Merida?” Her voice was clipped, anxious.
Merida tried typing, but her hands were shaking too hard. She propped up the tablet and spelled, “A man. A man! Called me here. He said… he said…”
At once, Kateri leaned close to the camera. “Are you in any immediate danger?”
Merida looked around. She was alone. The doors were locked. No one was watching her. Were they? The windows were dark. But she was on the second floor. All that was out there were those giant trees that overhung the mansion… no one would climb a tree to watch her.
