Chapter 12
TWELVE
CARMEN
The nurse takes the blood she needs, and the room tilts when she pulls the needle free. I see Catherine and Judas walk toward the judge’s room. I want to follow them, but my legs are shaking. I need Judas. But I stay, because I know Judas needs them more than he needs me now.
I make my way to the waiting room. The corridor spins as I sit down in one of the empty chairs. Simona finds me staring at a dark speck on the floor.
“The nurse says you should go home and rest,” she says. “Do you want me to take you?”
The chair beside me dips.
Judas sits down.
He lifts his chin at her once and shakes his head.
That’s a no, Simona.
“I didn’t ask you,” she snaps, reaching for me.
He is on his feet before her hand gets close.
“Simona, just get lost,” I say, stepping between them.
She exhales and drops back into the chair, crossing her arms and leaning in as if she owns the space.
“Maybe I’m not the person you should push away,” she says. Her eyes slid to him. “Right, Judas?”
My brows pull together. I look at him. “What does she mean?”
She smiles. “Maybe he should explain. I’m not here to blame.”
I tilt my head at him. He lifts one shoulder in a slow, helpless shrug, his eyes as lost as mine.
But she keeps going.
“Judas came home that night in 2014 with blood on his hands,” she says. “You were locked in a juvenile while William tried to protect him. He didn’t know if Judas killed your mom and stepdad, or if he killed someone else. He always had tese... Blackouts. Nightmares.”
The words land one by one.
My fingers curl around the hair tie on my wrist. I twist it until it snaps against my skin. Again and again. The sting is the only thing keeping me here. Because this can’t be real.
“No,” I say. The word barely leaves my mouth. “No.”
Judas shakes his head at her. I don’t know if he is stopping her, or denying her, or breaking under it himself.
That night is still a blur to me. I still don’t know what really happened. But I did see someone.
Was it really him?
Judas grabs my hand and squeezes so hard, but my fingers stay numb. My eyes lift to his, and all I see is him asking me to listen without words.
“Simona, can you take me home?” I whisper. A tear slips down my cheek.
His hand loosens.
I stand, my legs still shaking. He stands with me and reaches for my hand again, but I catch his wrist and gently pull away.
“Judas, I need some time to think.”
Simona smiles at me and slips her arm under mine, guiding me toward the exit. Her touch keeps me moving.
“I don’t know what your game is,” I whisper as we pass the doors. “But leave Judas alone.”
She says nothing. She only smiles at the nurses and walks me down the stairs, out into the cold air, toward her sedan. She opens the passenger door and helps me inside. I click the seat belt across my chest as she closes the door. She circles to the driver’s side.
The car smells the same as always, my nose wrinkles as I sniff before she opens the door and sits down.
She exhales and starts the engine.
“Did you know Judge Harrington is my father?” The words just spill out of my mouth.
She stays quiet until we pull out of the hospital parking lot. When we reach the road, she glances at me for a second.
“Yes.”
Her breath leaves her in a slow exhale. “Your mom struggled with drugs when she had you. William’s family didn’t want him to stay with her. He didn’t know you were his daughter until he started the adoption papers.”
“How did you know?” My fingers twist my hair tie until it snaps my skin again.
“Your mom and I used to be friends. When she moved away, we lost touch.” Her eyes stay on the road. “I took your case because when I saw your face, I saw hers too.”
“I’m nothing like her.” My voice cracks around the words. “I will never be like her.”
I turn my head toward the window. The road blurs past, lights stretching into thin lines. I want to disappear into them. But she keeps talking.
“I know her choices were questionable, but she was still your mom.”
“Questionable?” I snap, turning back to her. “You have to have a choice to question it. She didn’t. She let Justin beat me over and over so she wouldn’t get hit instead. And that night? That night, I was glad she was gone.”
“You don’t mean that,” she says, eyes fixed ahead.
“I do.” I stare at the road. “I don’t remember much. I blacked out, too. But I remember a man in a white ski mask walking around outside. I remember seeing him at the door. I remember opening it.”
She says nothing.
A laugh tears out of my chest. “You know what’s funny? I didn’t care if he killed us all. I wanted to die more than I wanted to stay in that house for one more day. What I didn’t know is that I would live long enough to be blamed for it.”
I laugh again and clamp my hand over my mouth, like I can push the sound back inside.
“I swear to you, Simona,” I say through it, “so many times I wanted to believe I did it. Just so I could feel powerful enough to say I had control over what happened.”
I look down as my emotions finally spill over.
“The only thing I regret from that night is that I didn’t run with Sofia before the cops came,” I say, my voice breaking. “But I know I wouldn’t have been able to give her the life she deserved.”
Simona swallows. “I promised your mom I would take care of you if anything happened to her.” A tear slips down her cheek.
“I was there when she gave birth to you. I could have taken you. She didn’t want you.
She had postpartum depression.” She sniffles.
“But I thought the same thing you do. I wouldn’t have been able to give you the life you deserved. ”
“I guess we aren’t so different after all.” I lift my head. The road outside the window finally looks familiar.
Simona turns into the Del Mar driveway and stops the car. For a moment, neither of us speaks.
Then she breaks the silence.
“I found her,” Simona says. “Sofia.”
My head snaps toward her.
“The family who did the closed adoption agreed to meet you one day, when you’re ready. Just for a day. They don’t want complications in Sofia’s life.” Her voice softens. “She’s doing great. She’s a happy child.”
I bite my lower lip and look down, then back at her. “I told you I can’t see her.” My hand closes around the door handle.
“Carmen,” she calls as I step out, “I keep my promises. I will come back. You will see her when you are ready.”
I slam the door and lean toward the window. “Simona, your sins won’t wash away by helping someone like me. It’s too late,” I spit. “You can’t save people who don’t want to be saved.”
She swallows and says nothing. She just watches me walk toward the iron fence, toward the house. Her car stays there, the engine of her car still running, like she’s making sure I don’t go anywhere else.
Even if I wanted to, where would I go?
I open the front door. There is no police tape now, but the house still feels like a crime scene.
The first thing I see is the blood on the black-and-white marble floor. The metallic smell hits my nose as I step past the dark puddle and climb the stairs, moving toward the room.
My bedroom door is locked, so I go into Judas’s room first.
It’s the smell of him that makes me want to stay. It stays in the air like he is still here. But the pull of my own bed is stronger. I grab a shirt from the chair near the closet and step out onto the balcony.
I lean on the railing and slide over to mine.
My balcony door is still open. I slip inside, and the moment my feet touch the floor, my legs give out. I collapse, the breath tearing out of my chest in a sound that feels like it comes from somewhere deeper than my lungs.
I press Judas’s shirt to my face and scream into it.
When the sound finally dies, I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling. My body goes hollow. I can’t cry anymore. I can’t scream. There is just this empty, buzzing quiet inside me.
Would they even care if I’m gone?
The thought slips in, poisoning my mind again.
Would they even notice?
My phone buzzes.
I forgot I left it on the bed.
I push myself up and cross the room. The screen lights up in my hand.
It’s Knox. I also forgot I told him I’d go to the party.
Hey, pretty girl. If you’re ready, I can pick you up in 20 minutes.
I look at my reflection in the mirror. My shirt is smeared with blood. My eyes look like I haven’t slept for days.
But I need a drink. I need to forget this day.
Great. See you.
I text back.
I peel off my clothes until I’m standing there in my navy bra and thong. I go to the closet and reach for the only black dress inside. I pull it over my head and face the mirror again.
I can still taste Judas on my lips.
I close my eyes, wanting him here, and then I shove the thought away.
I’m not angry that he might be the one who killed my mom or my stepdad. I’m angry that if he did, he never told me. And I’m angry at myself for not remembering.
All I see when I try is a white ski mask. A small spiderweb near the temple.
I swipe on red lipstick and twist my hair into a messy bun. I don’t care how I look. I just want to get drunk.
My black All Stars are still on my feet. I sit on the edge of the bed and pick up my phone. I lift it and snap a selfie. I sent it to Judas.
Before I can move back toward the balcony, my phone buzzes again.
It’s him.
Where the hell are you going dressed like a hooker?
I took another selfie. This time, I press my finger to my lips and tilt the camera low, my breasts filling the frame.
Come and find me.
Brother.
With the phone still in my hand, I hop down onto the grass and cut across the yard toward the driveway.
Headlights sweep over me a minute later. Knox’s car rolls up, ground crunching under the tires as he stops.
My phone buzzes again. I don’t even have to look to know it’s Judas.
I ignore it.
I slid into the passenger seat and shut the door. “Are you driving or not?”
Knox laughs and pulls away from the curb.