"Hey, Daddy,” I smiled, sliding into a chair next to him in the dining room. He was sitting down, eating his light lunch while he looked through some files. He pushed everything aside when he saw me, and he waved me over.

“Hey, Darlin'. Haven't seen you in a while. You must be keeping busy!”

If only he knew.

“Yeah, just trying to get some things together for college. I'm starting to get a little more excited. Veronica and Danielle said that they would come and help me get settled and maybe help with some interior decorating. I know you said there's furniture, but I want to give it my own personal touch, you know?”

“Of course, Baby Girl. Do whatever it takes to make you feel at home.”

I nodded. I stretched my arms over my head, and my dad caught sight of the scarring of the cuts from jumping through the window.

“What happened there, Sweetie?” He asked.

“Umm, oh nothing Daddy. I was just kind of clumsy and fell down by the pool. Isn't that silly? I've lived here all my life and I tripped over this uneven spot on the cement.”

He looked at me for a long time, squinting his eyebrows and chewing on his lip. Then he finally said, “I don't think you're telling me the truth, Baby. What really happened?”

“You don't want to know,” I said grimly, wishing I could disappear into the chair.

His voice became more stern as he asked again, “What happened?”

My throat was suddenly as dry as the desert. “Richard,” I whispered.

He shot up out of his chair, knocking it backwards onto the tile floor. “What did he do?!” He roared.

“I'm fine, Daddy, really there's nothing to worry about.”

“Ashten Brittany Norwood, I demand that you tell me what happened this instant!”

“He attacked me,” I croaked, swallowing hard. And then I started weeping, looking like an absolute cry baby in front of my father.

His voice changed, and suddenly he sounded weak and pitiful. He knelt down in front of me and trembled. “He didn't. Please tell me he didn't.” His chin was quivering, and there were tears pooling in his eyes.

“No, but he tried to,” I said quietly.

He screamed in rage, then stood up and picked up the nearest object, which happened to be an antique pewter candlestick, and he lobbed it across the dining room. It landed on the buffet, sending figurines flying off and crashing in every direction.

“I'm sorry,” I sobbed. “I should have told you.”

He paced back and forth, huffing, muttering, rubbing his hands over his face. A few of the servants came in to find out what was going on, but he sent them away. “That bastard!” He cursed. “I'm going to kill him!” Suddenly his body seemed like it was propelled by some force other than his own muscles as he raced out of the dining room, calling for the chauffeur.

“Daddy!” I cried, running after him. “I already filed a police report. He was arrested and bailed out, but now he's waiting for his sentencing. He said they lawyer told him to make a plea bargain so we don't have to go to court. He'll probably end up with community service or something.”

“Community service?! Hell, no! He hurt my little girl - he's going to prison!”

“Daddy, my lawyer and I have already talked-”

“Your lawyer?” He stopped in his tracks, looking at me with great interest. “When did this happen?”

“A little over a week ago.”

“And you already have a lawyer? Does Mom know about this?” He seemed more curious than angry now.

“Are you kidding? She'd have my head,” I grimaced.

He came to me and skimmed some of my loose hair off my face. “Your mother wouldn't be angry with you. It wasn't your fault,” he reasoned.

“Yeah, she would, Daddy. She thinks everything is my fault.”

“I just can't believe you went through all of this alone. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, Sweetie Pie. I wish you had told me.”

“I wasn't alone, Daddy. Louis helped me,” I said. And then I quickly added, “And Preston and Danielle, too. And Veronica and Liam, too.”

“You told all those people, but you didn't tell me?” He was clearly hurt. He put his hand on my shoulder and guided me into his office, closing the door behind us.

“If I told you, then Mom would know, and she always thinks I'm doing everything wrong. She's pissed that I'm not marrying Richard and not turning out to be the way she wanted me to be. I figured she would just blame me for not giving in to Richard in the first place.” I swallowed hard again, feeling a little embarrassed talking to my father about this. But then again, it was kind of a relief that he knew.

“So...you never gave in to him? Like, never?” He asked, sounding kind of incredulous.

“Never, Daddy. I'm still a virgin.” As I said it, my cheeks turned flaming red.

“I'm so proud of you, Ashten,” he said, grasping my arms firmly with his strong hands. “So proud.”

Then I told him everything, about how Preston rescued me and how Louis bandaged me up and convinced me to go to the hospital, and then convinced me to press charges. I made sure to leave out the incriminating details, like the fact that I'd been sleeping in Louis' bed for the past week.

“They did all that for you?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

Then I told him about confronting Richard and all the stuff he'd been hiding. He just kept shaking his head, saying, “I can't believe all of that really happened.” Finally, he burst out laughing at the idea of Richard being retained by the guys. “This Zayn guy really threatened to break his arm?! Well, Richard got what he deserved, that two-timing son-of-a-bitch!”

He shook his head some more and just looked at me for a long time. I had no idea what he was thinking, but then he finally said, “You're not my baby anymore. You're all grown up, and now I feel like I hardly know you. How could I have missed all of this?”

“Well, now you're up to speed,” I smiled, my heart full of relief.

He hugged me, his laugh vibrating against me. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. So sorry, Baby Girl. You know I'd do anything to protect you, right?"

"Of course, Daddy."

He laughed again, shaking his head. “I still can't believe you had your own little posse come with you to put Richard in his place. You have some great friends.”

I sighed. “They really are the best. I'm so glad – they've made this summer the best in my life when it could have been the worst.”

“I'm happy for you, kiddo," he said. He went to his chair and sat down, putting his feet up on the desk. "So, tell me a little about Louis,” he said.

“Wh...what about him?” I asked nervously. “We're good friends. I mean, you probably know as much as I do – he's from Michigan and he wants to go to become a doctor. But you know, that's it, friends.”

My dad nodded, and I just knew that he knew I wasn't telling him everything. But as much as I wanted to come clean, it just wasn't the right time to tell my father about Louis and me.

“He's a good man," my father said. "Hard working, honest. And I don't think I can ever  thank him enough for taking care of you after all that. I think I should give him and Preston a bonus after all that. Or maybe a pay raise? What do you think?”

“Interesting you should ask that, Daddy, because I wanted to talk to you about that very thing. You see, Louis has always wanted to go to Harvard....”

I made my case for Louis, trying desperately not to sound like my heart was so deeply involved. But the truth was that I wanted this for him so badly because I thought he deserved to have his dreams come true, and I wanted to see that happen. Just one selfish little part of me knew that if he went to Harvard, we could be together. But above all, I just wanted him to be happy.

Just to be safe, I told Daddy that Preston was saving up for college, too, so maybe he could give Preston some money towards his college fund.

We came up with a plan, and he told me that he'd get back to me when he had some definite answers.

As I was leaving his office, he stood up and said, "Wait." I stopped and he came over and wrapped both arms around me. He was so big and I was so small, it seemed like I was a child again. "Baby, I'm really so sorry that I wasn't there for you. Will you promise to tell me everything from now on? I want to help you, okay?"

I nodded excitedly. "I'd like that, Daddy." 

Finally, he said, "I'd like to talk to your lawyer. I want to make sure Richard doesn't get off without any consequences, and I want to make damn sure he never does anything like this again. And he'd better hope to god that I never see his sorry ass again!"

I laughed and gave him one more squeeze.

I didn't see Louis much over the next few days. He was busy with things around the pool and garden while I was busy packing and making plans for my move. But one night, as promised, he came and shared my too-big bed.

“I missed you,” I told him as I snuggled against his bare skin. He was just wearing shorts to bed, and I was only wearing a tank top with my shorts. I loved the feel of our skin together; it was comforting and soothing. “I like being able to do this with you.”

“Me, too,” he said, and he kissed my head as he pulled me closer, his arm around my shoulder. “I've been thinking about your life and your childhood, and I think you were forced to grow up too fast.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” I agreed. “Going from Barbie dolls to dating a college guy.”

“What else did you like to do? Besides play with Barbies?” He asked.

I remembered him telling me about his adventures with his siblings. I felt a pang of emptiness to think of my own childhood. “It was lonely,” I said. “I had any toy I wanted, but no one to play with, unless my parents planned a play date. My Barbies and their houses and cars alone took up half this room. I didn't have sleepovers, and I just never had people around.”

Louis squeezed me tightly, encouraging me to keep going.

“I had an art table with canvasses, paints, calligraphy pens and chalks. I loved to doodle. I never painted something grand, it was always doodling designs and patterns and abstract things.”

“Cool,” he remarked. “Where is your art table now?”

“Probably in storage somewhere. I just lost interest after a few years.”

“What else?” He quietly urged me.

“There isn't much else,” I said. “I don't think I was a very happy kid. Mostly, the social events I attended were geared towards adults, and I was just dragged along, probably to make my parents feel like they were including me.”

I hated talking about this. It hurt a lot, and I preferred to leave it under the surface. But Louis had shared some very personal things with me, so I knew I could open up to him.

“I really liked Veronica, but I didn't get to hang out with her much because my parents didn't know hers very well. It was only when I was 16 or 17 that we started to connect more. Now, she's the best friend I could ever have. Besides you.”

Louis smiled gratefully. “I'm glad, because you're one of my best friends, too.”

I looked up at him and he met me with a warm kiss. “Your parents were selfish, Ash. They put their needs before yours. That's not how it's supposed to be. Sure, kids have to learn that they're not the center of the universe, but they need to feel special. Children deserve to have their parents dote on them once in a while. It sounds like you never had that.”

“No, I didn't,” I said sadly. “But it's strange because now my dad is acting really mushy and sentimental. I mean, he always paid more attention to me than my mom did and I've always been able to talk to him. But he's been surprising me with his affection and understanding. Especially when I told him about Richard attacking me.”

“You told him?!” Louis exclaimed. “What did he say?!”

“Well, I think he wanted to rip Richard's arms off, but I stopped him and told him how great you were – well, you and everyone else. I didn't want him to think that my feelings for you were any different than the others.”

“I asked him not to tell my mom, and he agreed. He just wants to talk to my lawyer. And he's very grateful to you and Preston for rescuing me and doing the first aid thing.” I decided to stop talking about that because I didn't want to slip and tell Louis what my dad was working on.

“Anyway,” I said. “My dad's been pretty cool lately.”

“He's letting go,” Louis said.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, his baby is going off to college. He's probably got some strong emotions about sending his little girl off into the world by herself. He's feeling nostalgic.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But it's nice.” I snuggled down farther into Louis' side and said, “I wish my mom would come around. I wonder why she hates me so much.”

“Don't know,” he said. “But I wish I could have a talk with her about pushing you together with Richard. At least, I assume that was mostly her doing.” I nodded. “That was just so selfish and it makes me sick. Remember that sweet little girl Magdalen whom we saw at the art fair?”

"I sure do," I said, smiling at the memory of that day in Ann Arbor.

“She's thirteen. You were the age of that lovely and innocent young girl when your mother practically betrothed you to a man six years older than you.”

For some reason, that revelation hit me hard. I pondered it for a few minutes, with all sorts of emotions welling up inside me – rage, sadness, indignation, resentment. And before I even knew what was happening, all of those horrid feelings that I was never allowed to feel came flooding out all at once. As if a dam broke, out of nowhere, I began wailing and sobbing with all the pain and loneliness I had felt as a child. I sucked in violent, body-shaking sobs and expelled loud cries like a little child.

Louis sat up and dragged me over to him, sitting me in his lap while he sat cross-legged on the bed. “Shhh,” he hushed. He rocked back and forth slightly while I soaked everything with my emotional storm. All those feelings from the dungeon were brutally forcing their way out, and Louis was there to bear the brunt of it.

All he did was let me cry. I think I cried for hours in his arms. Once in a while, I would stop and remember another hurtful moment or a particularly lonely period of my younger years, and I would start crying all over again. Louis had snagged a box of tissues from the bedside table, and he was handing them to me continuously while he rocked and shushed.

"I don't even know who I am," I lamented. "I don't know what I like and don't like. I don't know what my convictions are. I don't know what I'm good at doing besides being a snob. I don't know what to do with my life!  Who am I? Who am I, Lou?!"

The weeping took over again, but as I calmed down, he whispered, "You're learning who you are right now. You'll figure it out."

I finally said, “I hate her, Lou. I hate my mother. I wish she were dead.” 

All he did was stroke my hair and kiss my face. He didn't yell at me. He didn't tell me that I shouldn't say such things. He just kissed me, held me, and let me mourn my lost childhood.