"Really?"
"Really." He gave me a smile and hunched down for me. Then he cleared his throat. "Honey, I want to talk to you about that night you found your mom in the bathroom."
"Yeah?" I could tell he wanted to talk about it. Dad's voice always changed when there was something important he wanted to say, but I looked away. I didn't want to talk about that night. Mom was fine. Dad was back. Everything was fine. I knew it. I was fine.
"Yeah, honey." He cleared his throat again and folded up his sleeves over his arms. "Listen, Jolene called me from the hospital when she picked you up. That was nice of her, wasn't it? I'm glad the social workers found someone to watch you so quickly. Were you a good girl for her? She didn't have to go down to the hospital to pick you up. Wasn't that nice of her?"
I shrugged. "I guess."
His smile relaxed, and he expelled a deep breath. "Good. Um, do you have any questions about your mother?"
"She's coming home this weekend?"
He nodded. He didn't say anything.
Things weren't okay. When he stood and walked to his back office, I knew things weren't okay. I was eleven, I wasn't four. But mom was coming home. She'd make everything okay. She had to; I didn't want to stay at Jessica's house again. Her mom wasn't nice.
"Sam!"
I blinked suddenly when Mason touched my arm. "You okay?" He still had an arm around Helen, but she had calmed down and leaned against the wall. Her eyes closed as exhaustion settled over her face. Her hair had been yanked free from the bun. It spilled down, but she didn't smooth any of it back. It stayed how it fell.
"Uh." I blinked again, clearing the memories.
"Logan!" My mom shrieked. She tried to bat him away as he kept a restraining hand on one of her arms. James ducked his head into her side. A scratch was on his cheek, some blood already spilled from it. "Get away from me!"
He hissed when she swung down again, but jumped back. She sagged forward, crumbling to the floor before she slapped a hand to the ground and pushed herself back up. Her eyes were wild, her hair was a mess, and the front of her dress was ripped. A tan bustier covered her up, but the dress was in ruins. She started to grab it and rip it off, but I stepped towards her.
She stopped. Her eyes jumped to mine, widened, and her mouth opened.
"Stop."
She did.
As I took another step closer, Mason murmured behind me, "Sam."
I shook my head. He didn't move away, but he didn't stop me. Logan straightened as well. The adults grew still, but James spoke, "I don't think this is the best—"
"Shut up, dad!" Logan barked at him.
There was movement behind me. I sensed it, but I could only stare at my mother. She was alone now, and her hand started to tremble. "Samantha—"
"I said, stop."
She clamped her mouth shut, but stood to her tallest height. Her chin lifted. Her shoulders squared back and the wildness in her eyes calmed down a notch. But she was still mad. I could see it.
I no longer cared. "You took them away from me."
She winced as if I had slapped her. "Honey—"
I held a hand up and she quieted. Then I shook my head. My stomach twisted into knots and the need to throw up was climbing in my throat. I felt it coming, but I couldn't deal with any of that. She made me sick. I'd never get that feeling out of me. My throat felt raw. "You took David away from me."
She grimaced again. Her head turned to the side as if I really had slapped her.
"You threatened Garrett from me?"
She didn't respond.
"Did you?"
She bit her lip. A sob convulsed from her, but she nodded once.
I gripped my stomach. The betrayal was there. I wished that she would've stabbed me. It would've been less painful than what I felt now. When would she stop hurting me?
I pressed on, whispering, "You kept him from me all my life."
"Sam," she choked out.
"Shut up, woman!" Logan surged next to me. "Let her talk."
Mason stepped closer to me. He didn't touch me, though I expected him to, but he was there. I knew he was there, in case I fell.
"You took my little sister from me?" Helen said Analise tried to kill herself, but that wasn't true. That had been the lie concocted to cover it up. She had committed murder.
"Oh god," she whimpered now. Her face crumbled, and she slipped to the floor. A hand held onto the counter, but it didn't help her. She held on, helplessly, as she curled into a ball on top of the tiles.
"Or did I have a little brother?" The question was ripped from me.
Her shoulders shook now and a sob sounded out. It was low and feral. It came from her core, but I didn't care. Not anymore. I knelt at her head, but she had it pressed into her knees. Tears and blood slipped over her skin. I didn't care where the blood had come from. I didn't even care that she was crying.