Because she knew nothing had happened between them while he’d still lived with them, right? She would have known. Besides, Keera hardly ever stayed at the house alone with Eddie—whenever Myah had a late class or anything, Keera always made arrangements to either go with her to the dance hall or beg to be dropped off at Tricia’s house.
Oh god.
How had she not seen it? How could she have been so blind?
“Myah?” Rachel was at her side, squeezing her shoulder. “Myah, are you okay? How about we step out into the hall for a moment, will that be okay?”
Dazed, Myah looked up and caught the look of concern on the faces around her.
“Myah?” Rachel held out her hand for Myah to take.
“I’m sorry, I just”—she had a hard time swallowing—“I just remembered something.”
“No worries. We’re okay in here if you need a moment.”
Myah followed Rachel out into the hallway, wiping at the tears that streamed down her face. She waited for the door to close before she covered her face with her hands and silently sobbed.
Rachel placed her arms around her, holding her tight while Myah cried against her shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay,” Rachel murmured.
Myah shook her head. “It’s not. It’s all my fault. I never . . . Oh god, I never saw it. How could I have let it . . .”
Children should always be able to trust their mother to protect them, to shelter them, to keep them from harm. What she’d done was the worst thing possible—she’d brought a monster into her daughter’s world.
“What’s going to happen now?” she’d tearfully asked Rachel once she managed to regain a little bit of composure.
The look on Rachel’s face was hard to see. “Debra needs to make sure something did happen. Once she knows, the police will need to get involved. They’ll want to talk to you as well.”
Myah sagged against the wall. “I should have seen it. Why didn’t I? I was just complaining to Tricia a few days ago that things were off with him. Why didn’t I see it?” She shook her head, upset with herself.
“Myah, you can’t blame yourself. You can’t. Sometimes the person closest is the last one to know. What’s important is that we’re here, now, trying to give her the help she needs.”
Rachel handed Myah a tissue and then went to get her a drink of water. By the time she returned, Myah had calmed herself down.
Now was not the time to fall apart.
As Rachel arrived, she turned toward the door and noticed Debra had stood up and was motioning them to come in.
Myah went immediately to her daughter, who was hunched over, her arms wrapped tight around her body. Debra pulled Rachel to the side and quietly spoke to her.
“Honey, are you okay?” Myah knelt down on the floor and gently wiped the tears that flowed down Keera’s face. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. It’s going to be okay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ALYSON
From the moment she stepped into her mother’s house, Alyson knew she’d interrupted something. Her mother’s smile was bright but pinched, and Tricia didn’t even bother to hide her lack of enthusiasm.
“She was okay?” Tricia asked her.
Alyson stared at her sister from across the table and considered her words carefully. In the ten minutes she’d been at her mother’s house, she’d thought long and hard about what she would tell her family about the meeting at the school.
“Alyson?” Tricia asked again.
“She amazed me. All I’ve ever wanted to do was protect her from stuff like this. And yet, when she realized how her side of the story could help Keera, she found her inner strength and told Rachel exactly what had happened. I was so proud of her.”
“She gets her strength from you.” Tricia finally smiled, and Alyson couldn’t help but smile back.
What there was to smile about in this situation, she wasn’t sure, but smile she would. Out of everything that could have happened today, her daughter being so strong was not something she’d expected. Her daughter was growing up.
“The one thing she was worried about the most though, was breaking her promise to Keera. Did Katy say anything about that?”
Tricia’s smile disappeared.
“I think that was the only thing Katy was worried about,” she said quietly. “If Rachel hadn’t convinced her, I’m not sure Katy would have said anything.”
Alyson kept quiet.
“What are you thinking?” Tricia prodded.
Alyson twisted the wedding ring on her finger. “I can’t stop thinking about Myah and Keera. How is Myah holding up?” She stared into her sister’s eyes. “Is she mad at me?” She swallowed hard, nervous about the answer.
“Mad at you? Heavens no.” Tricia sat up straighter. “I didn’t tell you, did I?”
“Myah thinks it might be true.” Tricia stood up and gripped the top edge of her seat.
“She suspected?” Alyson leaned back in her chair, her hands gripped around her coffee cup.
Tricia groaned. “No. Well, a little. She was starting to see the signs but hadn’t put it together until yesterday.”
“What kind of signs?” Alyson’s hand shook.
“The amount of interest Eddie showed in Keera lately, the small gifts, and then the threats.”
“He threatened her? With what?”
“He was going to ruin her name and career if she tried to keep Keera from him.”
Ida stood up and marched out of the room at Tricia’s news. Alyson watched her mother walk away and shook her head with disgust. Go figure. Once again, her mother runs away when things hit too close to home.
“I should have seen it. You did. Why didn’t I?”
“I’ve been through it though, Tricia. I knew what to look for. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“You don’t think I know something about this? You don’t think I know what it’s like to be abused? To be made to feel dirty and worthless and second-class? To have your innocence ripped from you, your heart destroyed, your body mutilated?” Agony laced Tricia’s words as she paced in front of Alyson.
“Tricia?” Alyson didn’t know what to say. She didn’t understand where this was coming from or what to do about it. One moment they were talking about Keera, but the next . . . the next it was as if they were talking about Tricia.
It didn’t make sense.
Slowly Tricia unclasped the bracelet she wore and then held her wrist out for Alyson to see.
“Did you never wonder why I always wear these big cuffs? Why you never see my wrist bare? Ever?”
Alyson looked at the scar on her sister’s skin in horror. The puckered skin held a pale pink tinge to it, but no one would be able to mistake why it was there.
“You never noticed, did you? Of course not. We kept it a secret from you, just like we kept a lot of things a secret from you. I always wondered if maybe you knew . . .” Tricia finally sat down, her shoulders slumped, her head down.
“I never knew.” Alyson wanted to cry—she should cry, but she felt numb inside.
“Of course you didn’t.”
Alyson heard the resignation. “Why wouldn’t I?” And then her sister’s words hit her. “What do you mean secrets? What secrets have you kept from me?” She looked around for her mother.
“Think about it, Alyson.” Tricia traced the scar on her wrist with her finger.
“You tried to kill yourself.” She was stating the obvious, but she couldn’t really take in what she was seeing.
“Yes. I tried. And then chickened out, but I cut myself deep enough that I needed stitches.” She traced the jagged edges. “But I didn’t go to the doctor. Mom stitched me up.”
“Of course Mom stitched you up—because that’s logical. Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” Because that would be t
he logical thing to do.
“Why didn’t you?”
That was a touchy subject, and one Alyson held against her mother.
“Mom,” they both said in unison.
“I still don’t understand though. When did this happen?” Alyson was racking her brain trying to remember a time when Tricia had been anything but strong.
“First year of college. The stress of everything became too much. Too many secrets, too many assignments, just . . . too much.”
“What did I miss? What happened? Why all the secrets?” This was all becoming too much. First, they were discussing the girls, then Myah, and now something was wrong with Tricia.
“Do you think now is the right time?” Ida returned to the kitchen, her arms bearing tea towels and dishcloths she’d obviously just washed. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on Myah right now?”
“There’s never going to be a right time for you, Mother. Keine geheimnisse mehr.” No more secrets.
“Would someone please explain to me what I’m missing? Please.”
“You’re the reason she kept her attempted suicide a secret from me, aren’t you? Just like you wanted to keep my rape a secret too. I should have known.” Alyson couldn’t hide the disgust she felt, the years of holding it in, pushing it down, and not acknowledging her hurt and pain.
“Let me guess. You didn’t want to sully our name even further did you? You thought it might hurt Dad’s business, or make you look bad.” She sneered.
“That’s enough. You don’t talk to me like that.”
“Why not? If I do, maybe you’ll actually let down that wall you hold so dear and actually be honest with me. Do you think?” She turned to her sister, looking for Tricia to agree with her.
“No, I don’t. This isn’t Mom’s fault. Just like it wasn’t yours or mine. There’s no blame here, Aly.”
Taken back, Alyson grabbed her purse. “Really? Because when I look back on my life, do you know what I remember most? Not the pain from the monster who raped me, but the shame. The shame that I experienced from the one person who was supposed to love me the most.”
She pushed past Tricia, with the goal of leaving, but Ida stopped her.
“Let me go,” Alyson said to her mother.
“No. You’ll go back and sit down. You want the truth, then fine. You’ll get it. But on my terms, not yours.”
“Aly, sit. Please,” Tricia begged.
Alyson sat. She placed her purse in front of her on the table and clasped her hands together in her lap. Tension coiled in her belly, and her mouth went dry.
No one spoke.
Ida sighed and then stood. “Might as well make coffee. I have a feeling we’ll be here for a while.”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Alyson glanced around at the coffee mugs on the table.
Tricia passed her mug across the table. “Better make it a full pot.”
“Baileys?” Ida asked.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Why don’t I make it?” Alyson offered. She took the mugs from her mother’s hands.
Once the coffee was made, Alyson reached for Tricia’s hand and gently touched the scar on her wrist.
“Tell me what happened,” she said.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Tricia said. “You won’t understand this without knowing the beginning—”
“So start there.”
Tricia fiddled with the lid to the Baileys bottle, her lips opening and closing as she obviously struggled to find the words.
“Oh for Pete’s sake. Give it here.” Ida reached for the bottle and with a twist unscrewed the lid Tricia had struggled to open. She poured a generous amount of the creamy substance into her coffee cup before doing the same for Tricia and Alyson.
“I don’t remember the pain of cutting my wrist, but I sure do remember the pain of having it stitched back up,” she said.
“I tried to freeze it first,” Ida mumbled. “With ice cubes. But I did the best I could.”
Tricia nodded. “You did. That’s all you’ve ever done—the best you could. But sometimes, the best we can do isn’t always enough. If we had gone to the hospital, I’m sure the scar wouldn’t be this bad, and maybe I wouldn’t have had to hide it all these years,” she mused. “But then, if we had gone to the hospital, I would have been kicked out of college, admitted to some kind of rehab, and things would have been so different.”
“I didn’t want that for you.” Ida reached across and touched Tricia’s wrist. “I’m sorry if my best wasn’t good enough, but it was all I had.”
“Maybe that was the problem.” Tricia sniffed, and it was then Alyson noticed the sheen of tears in her sister’s eyes. “I should have asked for more. What happened to me was just as bad as what happened to Aly, and yet my pain, my anger, my experience . . . it was all ignored.”
“Why?” Alyson asked.
Tricia looked her in the eyes. “Because of you. Everything has been because of you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TRICIA
Tricia noticed the look of confusion on Alyson’s face and gave a small laugh.
“Haven’t you ever realized that everything we’ve done as a family has been centered around you?”
Alyson shook her head. “It hasn’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tricia knew Alyson didn’t see it, and she got that, she really did, but it just added to the layers of hurt Tricia was feeling right now.
Her phone buzzed, and she quickly glanced down. Unless it was life or death, or Myah, she was going to ignore it. She needed to tell Alyson the truth, all of it, and make her understand.
It was her husband.
I’m thinking of you today.
She smiled. That was exactly what she needed. She’d talked with Mark early this morning about this, and he’d agreed it was time. Time to sweep away all the cobwebs from the past.
Love you. She texted him back.
“Was that Myah?” her mother asked. Tricia shook her head. She was anxious to hear from Myah as well, but she had a feeling her meeting at the school was going to take longer than what Tricia and Alyson experienced.
“You weren’t the only person that boy Michael Jacobs hurt, Aly.” Tricia cleared her throat.
“Don’t say his name.” Alyson visibly shuddered.
“It’s just a name. Has no power over you unless you let it.” Tricia repeated a phrase Ida had said all throughout their childhood.
“Who else did he hurt?”
Tricia looked deep into her sister’s eyes, wishing, praying even, that she could see the answer for herself.
Alyson glanced down at Tricia’s now turned wrist and visibly retched. She covered her mouth with her palm and shook her head.
“No, no,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Tricia confirmed. She hated to see the look of horror in her sister’s eyes, on her face, as the realization that she hadn’t been the only one to be hurt by the boy next door, something she’d always thought was the case.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why?”
At her question, Tricia glanced over at her mother.
This was the question Tricia dreaded having to answer. It had been hard enough telling Mark the truth and seeing the pity and sadness in his eyes. But she wasn’t sure if she could handle telling her sister the truth.
“I know that day is hazy for you, that there are parts of it you don’t remember fully.”
“And yet there are parts that are clear as anything else in my life,” Alyson murmured.
“Dad was in Germany on a business trip, and Mom was out somewhere. I can never remember where, never have.” Tricia gazed off into the distance. “But I was to keep watch over you. Kenny came over and wanted to play with you.”
“I don’t remember that,” Alyson s
aid.
“Are you sure? You went over to his house and played with him. I watched you play in the yard with him until Michael came out and talked to you. He offered you a soda or something. Do you remember that?”
Alyson inhaled deeply, her body shuddering from the impact. “No. I remember . . . I remember the sound of the screen door hitting the frame and the loud drone of their air conditioner.”
“I waited, waited for you to come back out. God”—Tricia released the breath she’d been holding in—“you were in there forever, and I started to get nervous. So I went over. Kenny told me you were helping Michael get snacks for the two of you, but when I knocked on the door, there was no answer. I stepped into the kitchen, and you weren’t there either. I called for you, and I thought I heard you call my name, so I walked through the house.”
She’d only told this story twice in her life. To her mother and to her husband. She never thought telling her sister would be so difficult or hurt so much.
“I can still remember the sound of your voice as you called my name. I’ve never heard it again, not from my own kids, and I thank God for that every day.” Tremors took over her body, and she hugged her arms close. “I ran up the stairs and heard Michael telling you to shut up. All the doors were open but one, and when I opened it . . .” She had to stop.
The memory of seeing him over her sister—her body visibly ached.
“When I came in, he . . . you got free.” Tricia blinked, wiping away the memories and managed a semblance of a smile. “I told you to run, to run home and call someone. The police, our neighbors, Mom . . . it didn’t matter. And run you did. I was so proud of you. I went to follow you, but Michael blocked the way, and he wouldn’t let me go.” She swallowed then wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee and brought it to her lips, her hands still shaking as she did so.
“Please tell me he didn’t . . .” Alyson couldn’t get the words out, so Tricia did it for her.
“He did. He promised he would leave you alone if I stayed.”
“Ich liebe dich, mein starkes Mädchen.” I love you, my strong girl. “You don’t have to say more,” Ida whispered.
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