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A FEW TEARS fell from Odessa's eyes as she looked at the picture in her file. She knew she'd changed since she was seventeen, but she never thought it was by so much. The bright and happy girl from Phoenix, Arizona was gone and taken over by the dark soul of a girl from nowhere. She read over the names of her family and more tears fell. Who knew shit would hit the fan this hard.
Spencer quietly watched the girl in front of him recollect her past. This is how they'd get her to crack—make her vulnerable and emotionally weak, break her down so they can get the information they needed.
But he felt terrible. Odessa had obviously repressed the memories of her past so far back, that just reading their names sparked a storm of rage and sadness inside her. But the sad thing was how she kept fighting for it to go away, the memories and the storm.
"Odessa," he said soothingly. She looked up with bloodshot eyes from crying. He looked at her sadly, wishing he could stop, but there were cameras, and he knew his colleagues were watching from behind the window. "We need to know why there's close to nothing in your file."
She nodded and took a deep breath. "You have to promise me something," she whispered. He nodded and eagerly waited for what she was about to say. "Promise me that you won't judge me. And if I tell you everything, you have to keep me safe, wherever I end up—I have to be safe. If you can't promise me that, then I can't tell you everything."
He nodded again. "I promise." He could picture Prentiss sighing and rolling her eyes.
She lightly smiled and forced her eyes shut. She had no idea where to start, but after seconds of contemplating, she decided to start with her mother.
"When I was ten—my sister thirteen and my brother six—our mom started using, on top of already being an alcoholic," she took a deep breath and laughed to herself. "Who does that? Who has three kids and just gives up like that? My dad left by the time I was twelve—Mom was beating him for trying to help her, so he just up and went. But don't get me wrong—my dad was a piece of shit, too. When he left, he only took my brother with him because me and my sister were too old and 'too influenced' already. He didn't think he could save us." A few bitter tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Do you have any idea where he went?"
"If you don't know, then what makes you think I would know?"she said with edge in her voice. "But I never saw them after that. I don't even think my mom or my sister cared.All through high school, I did what I could to help... got two jobs to pay bills, stayed in school, did good in school, stayed sober and drug free... I wanted to bring us all back together again. But then my sister got into drugs and started skipping school. She quit her job and paid for drugs with sex—all while our mom was passed-out-drunk on the living room couch."
