Chương 6
Kenzie had purple streaks in her hair and wore a denim jacket covered in enamel pins. She approached slowly, then sat without asking.
“My mom says I’m not supposed to interrogate you.”
“Good advice.”
“She also says I should tell you our house is available.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Refuge? Snacks? My mom thinks hummus solves emergencies.”
Chloe peeled the foil lid from the yogurt.
Kenzie watched people cross the courtyard. “Did he do it?”
The bluntness was almost a relief.
Chloe took one bite.
“You don’t have to answer.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because not asking felt fake.”
Chloe scraped yogurt from the lid. “Yes.”
Kenzie nodded once.
No gasp. No hand over the mouth. No speech.
“My mom’s hummus is terrible,” she said after a while. “Just so you have accurate information.”
Chloe laughed before remembering her ribs. The pain bent her forward.
Kenzie’s face drained. “Oh God. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It clearly isn’t.”
“I mean the laughing.”
“We can avoid humor until your skeleton improves.”
They sat in silence.
Across the courtyard, two boys threw a crushed water bottle at each other. A teacher confiscated it and looked personally betrayed.
For eleven minutes, Chloe felt almost ordinary.
Then Savannah sent a message.
We need to talk before the hearing.
Chloe read it three times.
The hearing had been scheduled for Thursday. Luis had explained it would address temporary placement and contact restrictions, not decide every allegation. Chloe did not have to speak in the courtroom unless her attorney advised it, though the judge might consider her preferences through other means.
What do you want? Chloe typed.
Savannah’s reply came immediately.
Not by text.
They arranged a supervised meeting at a family services office Wednesday afternoon.
The room contained a round table, four plastic chairs, and a shelf of board games with missing pieces. Luis sat near the door. Chloe’s attorney, a woman named Rebecca Shaw, remained in the adjoining room at Chloe’s request.
Savannah arrived seven minutes late wearing jeans and a university sweatshirt. Without the yellow dress and careful makeup, she looked younger than nineteen. There were dark circles beneath her eyes.
She sat across from Chloe.
“You look okay,” Savannah said.
“You look bad.”
“Thanks.”
Luis shifted in his chair. “I’m here for safety, not to direct the conversation. Either of you can end the visit.”
Savannah nodded without looking at him.
For a while, neither sister spoke.
Chloe examined a scratch across the table. Someone had carved the word MINE into the laminate.
Finally Savannah said, “Dad’s lawyer thinks you’re exaggerating because you want to leave.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
Savannah rubbed her palms against her jeans. “Mom isn’t sleeping.”
“That isn’t my fault.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You came here to say it without saying it.”
Savannah looked toward the one-way observation window.
Chloe followed her gaze. “They told me it isn’t recording.”
“I know.”
“You don’t trust them?”
“I don’t trust anyone anymore.”
Chloe nearly said welcome, but the word felt childish.
Savannah took a breath. “Dad says if you correct your statement, this can calm down.”
“I didn’t make a statement.”
“He says that’s good.”
A bitter taste rose in Chloe’s mouth. “Are you delivering messages for him?”
“No. He can’t contact me either unless Mom’s there.”
“But he did.”
“He told Mom. Mom told me.”
“That’s still a message.”
Savannah’s fingers tightened. “Everything is falling apart.”
“It was already apart.”
“Not for everyone.”
The honesty stunned them both.
Savannah looked away.
Chloe leaned back carefully. “You mean not for you.”
“I mean I was leaving.”
“You left every day.”
“I had school.”
“You had a car.”
“I worked for that car.”
“Dad bought it.”
“I kept my grades up. I followed the rules.”
Chloe felt the room narrow.
“So did I.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Luis shifted again, but Chloe lifted one hand. She wanted Savannah to finish.
Savannah’s voice lowered. “You argued. You rolled your eyes. You acted like every rule was some human rights violation.”
“He hurt me.”
“I know.”
The words landed without force. That made them heavier.
Chloe stared at her sister.
Savannah’s face lost what remained of its defensive shape. “I know.”
“You told the detective you weren’t there.”
“I wasn’t there most of the time.”
“June first.”
Savannah stood so abruptly that the chair legs scraped the floor.
Luis rose halfway. “Savannah.”
“I need the bathroom.”
“Sit down or end the visit.”
Savannah remained standing.
Chloe watched her sister’s hands shake.
On June first, their father had found Chloe’s report card inside her backpack before she could explain the missing chemistry assignment. The overall grades were good. One incomplete had been enough.
Savannah had come home during it.
She had stood in the hallway while Chloe sat on the floor beside the laundry room door, one arm protecting her head though the danger had moved lower. Their father had ordered Savannah upstairs.
Savannah had hesitated.
Chloe had looked at her.
Then Savannah had gone.
The next morning, she left a bottle of painkillers and a granola bar outside Chloe’s bedroom.
Chloe had never decided which part hurt most.
“Sit down,” Chloe said.
Savannah lowered herself into the chair.
“Why did you tell them anything?” Chloe asked.
Savannah picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “Because the doctor showed me part of the report.”
“What report?”
“The injury summary. She said some things were older.”
“You knew they were older.”
“I didn’t know how many.”
Chloe waited.
Savannah swallowed. “And because Dad told me exactly what to say before the police talked to me.”
“What did he say?”
“That you fell carrying laundry. That he was in the garage. That Mom found you.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“I know.”
“He told me he was upstairs when I fell.”
Savannah looked at her.
There it was. A contradiction neither had planned.
Their father had given them different stories.
May you like
“He said he was in the garage,” Savannah repeated.
Luis opened his notebook.
