A/N: I've decided to edit the story so this is a brand new chapter that might add to the detail of the story! I hope you all enjoy!
Songs for this new chapter are:
Murder Song by: Cotton Wine- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MgEAZqu1hhQ
In the next months, she'd tried to go back to how she had been. She couldn't forget certain things that had happened, while other memories had faded into darkness. Hex had trusted Paul so much. He'd even given her the skills she needed to flee from that place, teaching her how to pick locks, but she'd never wanted to leave. She thought Paul was her family.
"You're holding it wrong," Paul gently told Sarah, reaching around to adjust her grip on the pick. He'd given her the set a week ago for her birthday. Sarah bit her lip and wiggled the pick slightly, trying to catch one of the tumblers.
"I can't do it!" she cried, frustration making her eyes fill with tears. Paul sighed and knelt down, turning Sarah to face him.
"It's only a lock. You're a smart girl, Sarah. Try again. You have all the resources you need around you, you just have to notice where they are and how to use them," he told her, his hands resting on her shoulders. Sarah bit her lip and nodded, then turned around to face the lock again. She stared at the lockpick in her hand, then handed it to Paul. She pulled two bobbypins out of her hair and wiggled one into the lock. Sarah's eyebrow wrinkled in concentration and she wiggled it. It caught on one of the tumblers and the lock clicked.
"I did it! It worked!" she cried, turning and hugging Paul.
"That's my girl. But why didn't you use the actual pick?"
"You said there are resources all around me. If one way doesn't work, try a different way," she replied, smiling.
"You're such a smart little thing. You've done so well. Always remember that advice," Paul said, pulling Sarah into a hug. She nodded against his shoulder.
"I'll always remember. I promise," she responded against his shirt. It smelled of shaving soap and coffee.
All these years later, she still hadn't forgotten that advice. Towards the end that lingering smell had stuck with her. Whenever she smelled coffee or shaving soap, she felt comforted and slightly repulsed at the same time. The memories that came attached to that smell made her feel a flurry of emotion that she couldn't describe. She could feel happy and sad and scared and safe all at once. She didn't know what to feel towards Paul.
Hex sat across from Chris and Sterling. She held a cup of green tea in one hand and a raspberry pastry in the other. She nibbled it and listened as Chris talked.
"Paul apparently kidnapped five girls that we know of. You're the only one that survived. You were legitamately lucky. The toxicology reports show that the other four girls were allergic to peanuts. You were the only one that wasn't. Paul was trying to replace his daughter with a girl around her age and similar in appearance," Chris explained.
"Paul told me about his other daughter. Peanut brittle was her favorite... He must've wanted someone like her in every single way. He tested them in a way and ended up killing them and dumping their bodies in a ditch. I guess I was the only one that passed the test... I could've ended up in a ditch too..." Hex mumbled. She glanced down at her hands. Her father sat down beside her.
"So what're we talking about?" he asked, smiling and squeezing her hands. She shrugged and shook her head.
"Just how glad I am to see you and Mom again," Hex replied, smiling and resting her head on his shoulder.
"I'm glad too," he said, kissing her temple.
Hex had good memories of her actual dad, but he'd still left. Now she swore off any attachment.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
