Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

guess," she said, shrugging again. "I don't remember the exact date. It was before Christmas, think. Uh-huh, before Christmas that year," she confirmed, nodding. "Clayton bought me a set of encyclopedias, but I wanted the dollhouse I saw in Macy's window."
    "It's been years? Did you ever ask them about it?"
    "Oh, no. Clayton would be furious if he knew I had gotten into his precious secret papers. He has them under lock and key, but one day I saw where he put the key. I never mentioned anything," she said, shaking her head, her eyes wide again.
    "Well, they are still legally your parents," I pointed out. "They have raised you and provided for you, and."
    "I hate them!" she cried. "Especially Clayton."
    Jimmy's smile evaporated, and he leaned forward, cutting his eyes toward me sharply and then looking at her.
    "He just wants what he thinks will be good for you," I explained. "He seems like a very intelligent man and a successful man, so—"
    "He's mean and cruel," she cried. "Ail my friends think so. They hate to come to my house. He asks everybody hundreds of questions and makes them feel bad. Then he tells me my friends are no good and too old for me, and he forbids me to go to their houses or go to the movies with them or—"
    "I'm sure he's just looking out for you, thinking of your best interests, honey," I said. "Usually when a girl your age pals around with kids much older, she gets into trouble. I'm sure he's worried about you and trying to do the right thing."
    She looked from Jimmy to me and then covered her face with her hands. "He does bad things to me!" she blurted out.
    "What?" Jimmy nearly jumped out of his seat. "What do you mean, does bad things? What sort of bad things?"
    She shook her head and started to cry. I went to her quickly.
    "Don't cry, honey," I soothed. "Tell us what you mean. We can't help you if you don't explain," I said. I put my arm around her. She buried her face in my shoulder.
    "I can't," she mumbled. "It's too . . . nasty."
    "Dawn!" Jimmy was on his feet.
    I nodded, closing and opening my eyes so Jimmy would remain calm and let me question her more closely.
    "You know now that Jimmy is your brother, honey. I'm his wife, but we grew up together, and I took care of you from the day you were born until we all split up."
    "You did?" she said, straightening up.
    "Uh-huh. You used to love when I sang to you. Momma became very ill, and I had to help out. I'll tell you all of it, how Jimmy and I thought we were brother and sister for years and years and how we discovered we weren't, yet we realized we were in love. We'll tell you all about your real mother and father."
    "What happened to them?" she asked quickly.
    "Momma's dead," Jimmy replied. "Daddy's okay, but he's remarried and has a new son, so you have another brother. His name is Gavin."
    "Well, why didn't I live with my real father? Why did he give me away?" she cried, the tears still streaming down her face. I took out my handkerchief and wiped them off her tender cheeks.
    "He didn't give you away; you were taken away by the courts. We're going to tell you all of it, honey, but you have to trust us, too, and tell us what you mean when you say Clayton does bad things to you. What sort of bad things? How long has this been happening?"
    She swallowed hard, closed her eyes and sat back. Jimmy sat down again to listen.
    "As long as I can remember, I guess," she began, her eyes closed. She wiped away her remaining tears and continued. "Clayton was the one who took care of me most of the time because Leslie was always busy with her paintings. Clayton often used to dress me and give me baths." She closed her eyes again and then opened them quickly and fixed her gaze on Jimmy. "He still does," she said.
    Jimmy's face turned so crimson, I thought the top of his head would burst into flames.
    "What?" he cried. "Still does?"
    "You're old enough to give yourself baths," I said, my voice almost a whisper again.
    "I know I can do it myself, but he always comes in on me and tells me I don't wash myself properly. He says I miss the important places," she said. "And when I once tried to lock the door, he got furious and pounded and pounded on it until I had to get out of the tub and open it."
    I swung my gaze to Jimmy. He was on the edge of his seat and looked as if he would leap off any moment and go charging out the hotel room door. Maybe even charge through it! His neck was taut, and his eyes were bulging.
    "I knew when I first set eyes on