So he kept doing what he does.”“Does he believe you now?” Page asks, not sure why she still has fresh bruises.Lisa nods. “I make sure to apply...everything he teaches me. I do everything he wants; no matter how much it disgusts me. I don’t let him see one bit of emotion.”“Then why the bruises?” the woman asks, pressing.“Because he enjoys doing it,” she answers. “Once he started believing me, he stopped breaking bones.”“I can’t do that,” Page says in a near whisper. “I can’t endure that.”“Then. Knew that he understood and did not judge her, and even blamed himself to some extent for her troubles and wanted very much to help her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh yes, Father!”And then she burst into tears.Chapter Fifty-TwoThe summer was flying by and Jane was determined to savor every moment, though they became increasingly bittersweet with the approach of autumn and Peter’s departure. Peter felt it as well, Jane knew without asking; even at his most loving and playful a thoughtful sadness. More

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