Unrepentaint. Impenitenti

I had to leave the glass on the table, hoping that the noise had not awakened Davil, while the cat was looking at me curious. I piegai on knees to be able to take the documents and fix them.

While my hands these were they thy merchants in all the paperwork, I realized that they were folders of the cases managed.

The first one that jumped me in the eyes was that of our game master, riposizionai the sheets that had leaked out and I put it aside. A second folder showed the label 'Program Eldritch'.

For a moment, just one, I was so intrigued by that title to be on the point of opening the folder and check what it was. That name sounded familiar, but I could not figure out where I could have heard him. But as I reflected, my eyes were inevitably on what remained still on the ground and, when I saw the photos that escaped from the third folder, I could not help but put aside that I shook for it to gather the photography and the rest of the file.

I put myself in the foot, while I tossed and turned between the fingers, the picture that the detective had taken of me and Hewitt only a few months before. Hewitt had been cut off, there was only me in that box, but I remembered very well that he was waiting to perform for the show at the end of the year and I went to do the cheer for him, even if we were not close friends, as we would become the summer after my kidnapping.

The hands began to tremarmi, uncontrollable, and I left to fall back to the photograph on the table. Before you ever lay their eyes on the label, I knew that what was written. I felt it inside.

The confirmation was like a whiplash. 'Kerys Westwood'. Without hesitation, I opened the window. And all my fears became a reality.

Notes to the psychiatric report I read on the first sheet. There were some transcripts of dr. Warris, but it was not this make me enter into a

spiral of confusion in the dark.

Further down, there were his notes. Davil had written to me.

Examinations, assessment did not detect sexual abuse, but the

victim has a deep desire for violence, corporal. The victim.

That's how I was called in those pages. I continued to read.

The biological father is addicted to drugs.

Then there was an arrow that led to a question.

The culprit of the kidnapping is a predator

sexual, much bigger than her? This meant

that he had considered the possibility that I

granted voluntarily as my kidnapper, even

manipulated, but always with my consent. I

couldn't think about it.

I couldn't stop reading it. Drawn

to dangerous situations, can instinct suicide? It is

believed dead, but not to the levels of a syndrome, Cotard. Fear of losing control.

I took a hand to her mouth to hold back a gasp. I realized what it meant everything that I had under the eyes.

For all that time, he had investigated on me. He had gone over to study, and had taken note of everything. His resistance was not due only to the fact that I was eleven years younger than he, and that I was a trainee that followed.

He was working on my case.

A tear I sailed on the cheek. He had lied. Nothing of what I had said was true.

One of the wooden planks of the parquet floor began to crack behind me. I turned around. Davil was there. Shirtless, only with pants on. His gaze went from my face in tears until the folder is open, then returned to me. Severe.

I followed my emotions, the instincts, the anger that I felt.

I took a step forward and with all the strength in my body I gave him a slap in the face. My palm collise with his cheek in a snap that forced the cat to run away from the fear.

And that this genre has immense power: to create a network of support, a community where you can complain and ask for help.

Therefore, I would like to thank all the beautiful women of every age, who have allowed the publishing of become this. A safe environment in which to find refuge.

And thanks to all of my readers. Without you I never would have found the courage to look ahead, to give this book to a new house publishing and to enter the game with a tale more dark, without the fear of feeling judged.

When I was contaminated by the desire to leave, and I saw all the gray, I found the enthusiasm to write Unrepentaint and your love has guided me to never stop. You are the true essence of this history.

Kerys and Davil are a bit twisted and definitely crazy. But keep a life lesson that I was taught by you, the readers, in these years: we have to be proud of our legitimate oddities and accept what we are, because only when we do this we can

learn to love, to be happy.

I know that now fed mixed feelings for our two unrepentant, for Davil especially. But the story has just started and these two still have a lot to tell you.

The hunt is not

over yet. See you soon

Blackcurrant