He looks away for a moment, running a hand through his hair like this is harder than he expected. “My friend explained it to me.”
My stomach drops.
“What friend,” I ask, very carefully.
“Someone who knows about this stuff,” he says, turning back to me, his eyes shining with certainty, “someone who knows what you are.”
The room seems to tilt.
“You know,” he continues, voice lowering like he’s sharing a revelation, “that none of this is normal, not you, not them, not the way that house works, and they explained why they needed to keep you close, why they needed to control you.”
“They aren’t controlling me,” I hiss, “they are protecting me, and if you do not take me back right now they will kill you.”
He shakes his head, almost sadly. “That’s exactly what they want you to believe.”
“N
