“You didn’t tell him the truth, did you?” Allison asked.
“I told him he killed her, but I told him it was an accident. That’s the memory he has now. Playing in the sand with Rachel, a hole opening up underneath, the sand covering her face... I made sure that was how he remembered it. As an accident.”
Allison nearly fainted with relief. Roland hadn’t lied to her, after all. He’d hidden things, yes, but he hadn’t outright lied. He couldn’t lie because even he didn’t know the truth.
“I knew,” Dr. Capello continued. “When I looked him in the eyes, it had worked. I’d turned the lion into a lamb. I told him Rachel was dead and that it had happened while he was playing in the sand with her. I said he shouldn’t blame himself, but he did. He blamed himself and he felt remorse and guilt and shame. And he cried. His little body shook so hard I had to sedate him before he hurt himself. First time in his life he ever cried real tears. Over and over, he said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Dad, I’m so sorry...’ A miracle of science.”
“Brave new world,” Allison said.
“Call the social worker who investigated Rachel’s injuries,” Dr. Capello said, his tone sharp, his eyes blazing with the last fire of his life. “She’s probably still got the pictures in her files. You want to see what Roland had done to her? You want to see the black bruises on the side of her face? You want to see her arm in a sling because he grabbed her so hard he yanked it out of the socket? You want to see the X-ray of her skull fracture? Do you?”
Allison didn’t answer. She was weeping far too hard to speak.
“And for all that,” Dr. Capello said with a ragged sigh, “I forgave him. I took him back home with me, and from that day ever after, he was my son and I was his father. I loved him and I protected him as best I could.”
“You protected him from the truth.”
“As he got older, he started asking me awkward questions. Kids are good at that. He wanted to know why he had to have brain surgery. He wanted to know why he remembered hitting Rachel and dragging her and throwing her against a wall. I had to tell him something so I told him that he had a genetic condition that caused lesions in his brain and those caused his violent outbursts. I told him I had cured him of it.”
Dr. Capello took another labored breath. Allison knew she was looking at a man who was not long for this world.
“But deep down he knows...something doesn’t add up. That’s why I wanted to keep him out of that monastery. I thought for sure they’d break him with their talk of sin and guilt. I thought he’d end up like Oliver, with a gun in his mouth and a bullet in his brain. But that’s not what happened. Instead, he finally forgave himself. He knew better than I did what he needed. And you...you fell in love with him,” he said. “You know how well he’s turned out.”
“I was a test, wasn’t I?” Allison asked. “Like Brien? You got Deacon a cat to make sure he wasn’t violent toward animals anymore? Did you bring me into this house as a test to make sure Roland wasn’t violent toward little girls anymore?”
His silence was answer enough for her. Allison nodded.
“And Thora?” Allison asked.
“Me,” he said. “I put myself to the test with her, as well. She falsely accused her last foster father of molesting her. I took a big risk for these kids. And I did so willingly. I love children. I loved you, too. I did. I do.”
She raised her hand to block out his words. She didn’t believe him. She didn’t want his lies anywhere near her.
“You can sit there and judge me all you want,” he said. “But you have benefitted from my work. The man you love wouldn’t exist but for me. And you would have destroyed it all with a temper tantrum.”
“I was scared he was going to kill me.”
“He’d die before he hurt a fly, thanks to me,” Dr. Capello said. “And you were going put all that at risk. Our family. You were always safe here.”
“You also gave a twelve-year-old girl electroshock therapy to shut her up. You could have killed me!”
“The machine was old,” he said. “But I knew it worked. I had played with it. The extent of the shock—that wasn’t meant to happen. There was a power surge, totally unforeseen. I never meant to harm you. I overreacted. I just wanted to make it all go away. For Roland’s sake. For the family’s sake.”
“Well, you certainly made me go away. That solved your problems.”
“Not my intention at all. You would have woken up a few hours later with a headache and no memory of what had happened the previous few days. That’s how it works. That’s what was supposed to happen. And now you’re going to do it again, aren’t you?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going to tell them what you know. You’re going to tell them what I did to you.”
“I’m not going to lie to them.”
“You’ll destroy them if you tell,” he said. “You have to realize that. None of them know they were born psychopaths. They all think cysts and tumors caused their violent behavior. You’ll make them hate themselves, and me, too.”
“I love Roland. Am I supposed to look him in the eyes and lie?”
“Yes,” he said. “Of course you are. Lie through your teeth. Lie like your life depends on it. Lie like his life depends on it because it does, Allison. It does. It’s what I’ve been doing all their lives. Because I love them. Because that’s what you do when you love someone.”
He was weeping again, but her sympathy for the man was long gone. She’d seen what he’d done to Kendra, to Antonio, to Oliver and his mother.
“Children are dead because of you.”
“Don’t you understand how it works? Someone has to be the first. Like them,” he said, raising a thin arm to point to his cases of medical antiques. “The first to saw off a leg to save a soldier’s life. The first to drill a hole in the brain to relieve the pressure. The first to cut a womb open to rip out a baby. Look,” he said, shuffling over to the cases. He opened a door and pulled out a large steel object, something like a saw with some kind of hand crank on it. “You know what this is? Guess?”
She shook her head, too scared to speak.
“A rib-spreader. You cut open the chest and pry the ribs apart with it. This is one of the first ever used in a hospital in America. It’s demonic. Look at it. It pries the chest open. It’s a serial killer’s toy. But it’s saved lives. It’s saved thousands and thousands of lives. Roland killed a little girl, Allison, and didn’t bat an eyelash about it. Zero remorse. Zero empathy. Rachel would have been the first of many if I didn’t help him. But I did help him. I helped all of them... I loved all of them...”
The rib-spreader fell out of Dr. Capello’s hands as he collapsed onto the floor.
“Dad!” Allison cried out, and ran to him. She knelt on the floor next to his body slumped against the filing cabinet.
“Are you all right?” she asked him. He lifted his hands and put them on her shoulders as if he wanted to try to stand but couldn’t.
“I saved them,” he said. “I saved them and you’re going to destroy them.”
“You’re losing it. I’m going to call 911.”
“I can’t let you,” he said. “I won’t...”
He wrapped his hands around her throat.
Allison let out a scream of utter shock before his hands clamped so hard on her throat she could no longer make a sound. She tried to jerk away but couldn’t. He had little strength left in his body, but what he had left was concentrated in his hands clamped around her neck like an iron collar.