The Never List

together and sat up. The first face I saw was Ray’s. I could see his shock and horror at what Tracy was saying, as he looked from her to me, and me to her.
    “I don’t remember that. That didn’t happen,” I finally said, exhausted from the effort of struggling with my memories.
    Christine had risen from her perch and was approaching me slowly. “It did happen, Sarah. It did .”
    “And that’s not even the worst of it, Sarah,” Tracy started up again. “I could almost forgive you for that. We were underfed, our heads were screwed up. But there was a certain code I thought we had down there. A certain commitment to one another. And you violated that in a way that was so much more profoundly damaging than anything Jack could ever do to us.”
    I shook my head, still repeating, “I didn’t. I didn’t.”
    “You did , Sarah.”
    The room was quiet for a moment, and then Tracy said, very softly and deliberately, enunciating each syllable clearly, “You told him about my brother. You told him about Ben’s suicide.”
    At that something unbelievable happened. Tracy started to cry. Actual tears. I stared at her in shock. I had never seen this before. All those years in the cellar, she had been so strong, she never let us see her like this, and now, here, not because of Jack, but because of something I did …
    “ Why ?” she pressed. “He didn’t need to know that. I understood what you had to gain by helping him with the instruments. I know you were trying to get in his good graces so he might trust you enough to let you go outside. I understand that.
    “But to tell him about Ben. When you knew he would use it against me. I could take anything else. Being bound, gagged, electrocuted, beaten—whatever. But I didn’t want to hear him use Ben’s name. Once he knew about Ben, he was able to manipulate my mind, make me believe Ben’s death was my fault, my fault entirely.”
    She stopped talking suddenly, wiping her face with her sleeve. Then she stared at me, her eyes narrowing.
    “Well, I have another secret for you, Sarah. I know you think you’re the only one who suffered here. But let me tell you, those first years out were difficult for me too. Much harder than they needed to be. Thanks to you, I couldn’t stop thinking about the things Jack said to me in there.”
    She was quiet for a moment, then closed her eyes as she began again. “It was so hard, in fact, that I tried to join Ben at the bottom of that lake. Twice. And clearly I’d be better off right now if I’d just stayed down there.”
    None of us spoke. I stared at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. I couldn’t believe it. Tracy seemed so tough, so powerful. The strongest one of us all. Had this experience nearly destroyed her as well?
    Or maybe I had nearly destroyed her?
    They were right. I hadn’t needed to tell her secret to Jack. Why did I? My memories from that time were so convoluted, so painful yet indistinct. Maybe there was a moment, a few fleeting seconds, where my mind had gotten turned inside out, and I thought that being with Jack, helping Jack, was somehow where my whole life had been leading. I had believed in his twisted vision of the world. Some small part of me had been resigned to be with him for the rest of my life, furthering his sadistic goals, satisfying his perverse needs. I had needed to believe so that I could carry out my plan. Believe just a little to convince him. But had I gone too far? Had I crossed the line? Had I been a success story in his sick study after all?
    I could only stammer out the words, “I’m sorry … I’m so sorry … I—”
    But at that moment, we heard a new sound from the front of the house.

CHAPTER 38
    We all turned to the entrance of the library, where Adele had left the double doors ajar. We heard footsteps approaching. The outline of a woman appeared in the shadows, like a ghost, gliding along the floor into the room. Then I saw it: she was holding a gun. And moving in closer.
    “Sylvia!!!” Ray shouted.
    I could not believe what I was seeing. At first the room seemed to spin around me, and then to disappear altogether. A world came crashing down in my head. A thousand worlds. My mind couldn’t put together the pieces of the puzzle, so disorienting was the reality in front of me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do the math.
    “That’s not Sylvia,” I finally said, feeling all of my blood surging to my head. “That’s … Jennifer!”
    “Oh. My.