Chapter 1

Amara sat in her room bored. Her room was more like a small two story apartment than anything else. She had a small living room, kitchenette, then on the second “floor” there was a bedroom and a bathroom. Her parents had done all they could to make a sanctuary for their little girl. They had fallen in love with her the moment they had seen her. Just they got her home and she began crying uncontrollably nearly screaming that her head felt as if it was going to spilt in two. Her mother of course cuddled her little girl and rocked back and forth, but the crying did not stop.

That was when they talked to the monster that had ruled her life for as long as she could remember. He explained that Amara could not be around people because of a rare social disorder and it was best she was kept alone in her room with minimum contact from anyone else.

She looked out the window and remembered hearing that whole conversation and how cold that man’s voice had been. She needed those other girls to save her brain from overloading. Even if she had to stay in that awful place, at least she would be with girls that understood what she had gone through and could be somewhat normal. Just those horrible things she had done trying to please the monster. He was never happy with anything. It could always be done better, done faster than how she had performed it.

She wiped at her eyes, not wanting to cry over it again. She always cried over what had happened to her nearly every single day. Amara was never happy. It was perhaps the saddest thing in the world. On a single hand, Amara could count all of the happy times she had had in her entire life.

“Amarante, your lunch.” one of the servants said leaving the tray on the small table. “Your father wishes to see you after lunch. Says it is very important.”

“I have told you, Gilda, call me Amara. I don’t like my whole name, it sounds weird.” she insisted, going over by the older woman. It didn’t sound weird. It was quite beautiful, it was who had given her the name that bothered her so. Her mother, her birth mother, had given her that name. She despised her mother. Why had she put her in that orphanage? Why didn’t she keep her? Was she so bad as a baby that her mother did not want her?

“I am sorry Amara.” Gilda apologized, pulling the chair out for the girl she had taken care of since the girl had been young. “Should I go as to not give you a headache?”

She looked up at the older woman and felt for her. Her parents had pushed her so far away and Gilda just wanted to care for her like a mother would. Curse that man who had taken so much away from her in so little of time. Amara longed to be around people and just be normal. Was it so selfish to ask for such a thing from God or whoever controlled humans on this planet? Her eyes swelled tears and she brought her hand up to wipe them away before they fell.

“It’s better if you go. Bad enough I will have to be around dad after this.” she answered, forcing herself to smile at the woman. “Tell him I’ll be there after I am done eating.”

The older woman nodded, “Eat well, or your father will worry about you.”

She immediately got up from her table and didn’t even want to touch the food. She didn’t eat a whole lot when she knew she had to be around someone. Her father would no doubt keep her for nearly an hour or longer so that by the time Amara got back to her she got horribly ill and passed out for several hours and would have to sleep for days afterwards just to keep the pain away. Sitting in her chair, looking out the French doors, she knew all too well she was too thin. But who would notice? Her family? Her parents that had adopted her? That was a joke in and of itself. Amara was not all skin and bones, but she was getting there slowly. She had gotten real good at hiding how much weight she had lost with how she wore her clothes. Thankfully she was not one to be out at the beach a whole lot.

Getting up again she grabbed a couple of the apple slices, making her way to her father’s office. Opening the door, she took a deep breath and saw someone else was in the room with him. How many people worked for him and how many really needed to be in the house on a daily basis? Her father knew she couldn’t be around people and now there was some guy in here.

“Dad, you wanted to see me?” she asked, her fingers going to her temple knowing that this was going to take a lot out of her.

“Amara, sweetie, you are done with lunch already?” he asked looking at the clock. He was in a black suit, with his black hair gelled back, sitting behind a huge cherry wood desk. It was just beautiful piece of furniture. Just how her father had so much money and had a seemingly endless supply of cash.

Vincenzio took a step to the side and looked at the girl that had walked into the room. That was Frank’s daughter? She didn’t look anything like him or Ashley. She was a lot prettier than her mother. He gathered up his papers, “I’ll come back another time.”

“No this won’t be a minute with her.” Frank said with a smile.

Amara knew the man that was with her father. He was around a lot and he was kinda good looking for an older guy. She had never been able to talk to him and every time she saw him she looked different. Her hair was rarely the same color and with all the weight she had lost probably looked like a different person.

“What did you want dad?” she asked, rubbing her temples harder.

“I need you to look at something for me. Just something real simple for you to do in your room for me.” he said with a smile as he handed her a set of papers that had to be at least a hundred pages thick. “You also have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow at noon I believe. He will be coming here this time.”

The color drained from her face, as she dropped the papers. Dear god no. That monster was going to come here and see her in her only sanctuary. She took a few steps back and tripped over her own feet. No. That wasn’t going to happen. She’d bail out of the house for a week to avoid seeing that man.

Vince went over by Amara and held his hand out to her, “Need some help? No one likes doctors, I don’t like them myself.”

She took his hand and let him help her up. Grabbing the papers she had to close her eyes and try to push the pain out for a moment. At least long enough to get back to her room. Amara just smiled and nearly ran from the room. Her father never tried to shield his mind and it was driving her insane to be near him at all.

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Vince tossed his papers into his briefcase, “I must be going Frank. I have so much to key into the computers this afternoon and I am going to be late for a lunch with my own boss.”

He frowned at that as he looked at the clock. Vince always had to leave so quickly after their meetings. It was quite odd since Vince did only part time work with the other company. As of late it seemed that he did more and more work with that other company and not for him. Any other worker Frank would have said something by now, but Vince was one of the best workers he had and he didn’t want to make problems for him.

Vince exited the large office and went to find Amara. She needed his help. He had her file that her father kept. It was the most extensive file he had ever seen one someone outside of the government. There was an extensive medical history with just gibberish written down for most of it. It wasn’t the handwriting that made it gibberish, it was the words. From the time Amara was fourteen months old until the time she was nearly five, the medical history and some of the personal history was written in that strange language. Only the names of the medications Amara was put on was in that language now. Twice a month she was given a half dozen things and refills on every single pill medication she had.

Letting himself into her room, he found her sobbing on the floor holding her head. He set his briefcase down and picked up and carried her to the couch. One of the things he had understood was that her brain had no guards in it. Something that would sound foreign to anyone, but him and the monster who had done this to her. He was a born psychic and knew how to take things away from people. The perfect person to be around her, the only person that could be around her that would not cause her further pain.

“Vince get away from me.” she said trying to push him away. This wasn’t the first time he had come to see her. Once before, when he had just started working for her father and she had collapsed in the kitchen. He had carried her into her room and put her to bed.

“Dad will be pissed if he finds you in here just like he was last time.” she said wishing he would get away, but knew he wouldn’t. “You know I have problems being around people, just go please.”

He let out a sigh and touched her face very lightly, “You have lost too much weight. I didn’t even recognize you and I am here almost every single day and I run into you a lot more than is meant to I’m sure.”

Amara narrowed her eyes at him and pushed him away, knocking him onto the floor, “I don’t want to deal with you or listen to your comments. I know I been loosing a lot of weight. What you want me to do about it? Last four months I had one medication changed and as a result I don’t feel like eating and when I do six times out of ten I vomit within a couple of hours. Now that bastard is going to come here tomorrow and give me another dose of that stuff. I have a bad headache and now Frank wants me to do an experiment with my gift and I just can’t do it. He doesn’t understand!”

Vince picked himself right back up and went over by her. He knew her confusion and fear and frustration from trying to take the pain away from her. If it wasn’t for the CIA sending him here to uncover exactly what her adoptive father was doing, he’d take her out of this place and get her some help somewhere.

“Have you tried refusing the injections and telling them that it makes you very sick?” he asked, touching her shoulder, needing the contact to help take the pain and chaos away from her mind.

She turned to face him, “You think I haven’t tried that!? My god Vince I complained the second time I was going to be injected with it and you know what Whitney did when I told him that? Laughed in my face like he did when I was 4 years old! He doesn’t care about what happens to me. Never has and never will. It scares me to death what the other girls have gone through all of these years.”

He took her chin into his hand, “Are you sure this is the same man? The records I found for Peter Whitney show he has been dead for months now. When did you last see him?”

Amara smacked his hand away and went upstairs to retrieve her pain medications. The upstairs was a bathroom and then a loft that served as her bedroom. On the nightstand, there had to be at least twenty different medications. Some were for pain, anti-depressants, muscle relaxors, sleep aides, special mixture of vitamins and supplements, and then birth control. To someone from the outside, anyone would think that Amara was a very sick girl and probably should be in a hospital environment. Except she wasn’t all that sick really. Most was different pain medications to be taken depending on how bad the pain was and the anti-depressants were meant to help keep her somewhat happy. At the age of twelve she had been diagnosed with chronic depression and it made perfect sense after everything she had been through.

He came up and just stared at the table. How many of those medications interacted with one another and just made it worse off for her? He watched her take four different pills and just laid down on her bed. She looked exhausted and beat down more than normal.

“Why are you on all of those?” he asked with a frown as he sat down on her bed.

“I need them or I can forget about functioning at all during the day. Don’t worry about me Vince.” she said pulling her comforter up to her neck and turning on her side to face away from him. She couldn’t stand that understanding look in his eyes. Amara knew he felt bad about how her life seemed to go. Pity and symphony were horrible things. She didn’t want those from people. She just wanted to be normal and to have a life as a normal person.

“Will you type the jist of the experiment Frank wants you to do and send it to me? It’ll help me put him behind bars and away from you and away from that horrible doctor.” he said getting up and turning the light off for her.

Turning over so she lay on her back, she looked up at him with her large green eyes, “If I can find a way to get out of this bed later, I promise to type that stuff up for you. Sorry you had to see me like this. I know I look horrible.”

“It’s understandable. I’ll come by tomorrow for sure, even if I have to sneak in. I know tomorrow will not be easy on you, but stay strong. That monster who did all of this to you only has power over you if you let him.”

Vince headed back downstairs and grabbed his briefcase. He didn’t like that she was scared and this sick. He had to get her out or at least make a passing comment that she ought to be looked at by an outside doctor. Although that would stick Amara in a hospital for a good few weeks until some weight was put back on. How that man kept doing this to her and not caring how sick and thin she got meant this was a man that truly believed he had a right to play God with her life even after she went to what was supposed to be a loving family was beyond him, but Amara was going to get out and he was going to help.