“From what? The truth?” I ask, my voice cracking with frustration.
“From the fact that someone we love can still hurt us so much.” She lifts her head and I see tears streak down her face as her eyes plead with me to understand, but I don’t. Protecting me because I was only six? Okay, I can see that. But I’m not six anymore, and I haven’t been for a very long time.
“I found out he’d cheated with one of the victims from the case, Mama. I know you were all lying about Hillary. But from what you’re saying, he cheated on you more than once. You knew about it. And one of his mistresses ended up dead? This person can’t be the man I thought he was, but you knew the truth,” I snap. “Why couldn’t you protect me by telling me who he really was? By not letting me believe that the man I looked up to was a hero? Or for the love of God, Mama, doing what any sane person would’ve done by moving us to another state and changing our names?”
Her eyes widen and she stops crying. “Being a cheater doesn’t mean he’s a killer. Riley, what are you saying? Is that what you would’ve wanted me to do back then? You were so young. Would you have wanted to not know your father at all? Would you have wanted to not visit him or ever see him? Would you want us to spend our lives pretending that he’s already dead?”
My heart aches at the mere thought, but I pause rather than reassure her. If there is anything I’ve learned lately, it’s that my heart isn’t exactly trustworthy. I glance at Jordan and the sympathy and kindness in his face lend me strength. Still, I can’t make my voice rise above a whisper when I answer. “That probably would’ve hurt less than this.”
Mama clucks her tongue at me. “Riley, you’re acting like everyone else when you should know better. You’re saying we should’ve tr-treated him like we assumed he wasn’t innocent.”
I’m quiet because I don’t know how to respond to that anymore. She goes on, her speech starting to slur more with the emotion of our conversation. “No one c-can put him at any of the crime scenes, Riley. Not a single one. No one can even tie him to two of the three victims. He was at the office alone when it happened, so he has no alibi, but he did that kind of thing all the time. They never foun—found any of the so-called souvenirs he was supposed to have taken.”
“I know all of this, Mama,” I say softly, but she keeps going.
“Mo-most of their evidence is completely circumstantial. There were even times when…” Her eyes well up again and she looks utterly heartbroken. “There were times when I actually wished that he’d b-been with Stacia those nights because then she could’ve been his alibi. Do you know how sick that makes me feel?”
In that instant, I start to hate Daddy just a little bit.
27
“MAMA, DO YOU REALLY STILL BELIEVE HIM? Can you still believe that he’s innocent after all he has done to you?” This time my words are quiet but clear. I stare straight at her, watching in a way I never have before for the slightest flinch, blink, or hesitation. Something to signal me of any worries or doubts, of any flat-out lies she’s been telling me.
“I did”—Mama lowers her eyes to the table—“until you told me he confessed. Now I don’t know what to think.”
“Mama, why did you stay loyal to him through all of this?” Releasing Jordan’s hand again, I reach for Mama’s fingers, but she balls them up into fists so I grip her wrists. “Why would you let him do this to you? To us?”
It takes a few seconds before she releases a long, slow breath, and she looks endlessly sad. “I thought I was protecting you.”
I can’t take the same answer again. Anger bubbles beneath my skin until I can’t sit anymore. I shove her hands away and stand up from my chair. “You weren’t protecting me, you were protecting him. If you really cared about me, maybe you could’ve helped me with things that were actually killing me inside, like how lonely it is to have zero friends, or dealing with absolute jerks at school and in our neighborhood, or knowing how to cope with losing my father. We’re only two weeks away now. Two weeks.”
I can see the pain I’m causing in her eyes, but I’ve been waiting too long to say this and trying to stop now would be like trying to dam a river with barbed wire. “Never mind. You aren’t capable of helping anyone. You always pretend you’re so strong, but now I know why. You do it because you are weak and it terrifies you to admit that.”
The room has gone blurry from my own tears. In some still-rational corner of my mind, I can’t believe the words that keep spilling out of my mouth. Mama stares at me in silent shock until a soft cry of alarm escapes her mouth.