“It’s pretty,” I tell him honestly. Then, pausing for a second, I add, “But I don’t want to be here.”
“Of course.” He looks almost understanding. “But you’ll get used to it. This is your new home, Nora. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better.”
My stomach lurches, and I feel like the food that I just ate is in danger of coming up. I swallow convulsively, trying to control the sick feeling inside me. “And my family?” The words come out low and bitter. “How are they supposed to come to terms with it?”
Some emotion flickers briefly across his face. “What if they didn’t think you were dead?” he asks quietly, holding my gaze. “Would that make you feel better, my pet?”
“Of course it would!” I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. “Can you do that? Can you let them know I’m alive? M
