Chapter 29 #2
Some of the tension in my chest eases, but doesn’t fully relax.
I don’t know if it ever will—knowing how much was taken away from Kiki because of me.
My throat tightens at the thought of how angry she must be.
How much Kai must regret inviting me to their cabin in the first place.
I can promise him a thousand times that I didn’t know Mami was lurking in the woods, that I genuinely didn’t think she was capable of doing this again, but that doesn’t change what happened.
“Kai, I’m so sor—”
“Did you know?” he interrupts before I can run through the apology I’ve had nothing but time to rehearse. His expression is unreadable. “About your mom?”
I shake my head so quickly it makes the world spin, my thoughts rattling around my brain like a pinball machine.
“I had no idea that she followed me that night, I swear,” I promise him with all the strength and conviction I have left to give.
“I didn’t realize it was her until after we found Carla, and—”
“I meant…” He trails off after cutting me short, looking down at his scuffed sneakers. Avoiding my eyes. “About before. What she did to those other guys.”
I swallow hard, even though I knew the question was coming.
How could it not be, when it’s been splashed all over the news for weeks?
Daughter of infamous convicted killer accuses her mother of four murders.
No matter how many times I prepared myself to tell him the truth, I still feel unsettled by the prospect of it.
I’ve told my story dozens of times over the past two weeks.
To detectives and lawyers and reporters. This is different, though. “Yes.”
He bites his lip, peeking up at me from beneath his full lashes. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”
Dozens of excuses sit on the tip of my tongue.
Because I thought she wouldn’t do it again.
Because Papi told me not to. Because I thought it was safer not to.
Because I wasn’t sure anyone would believe me if I did.
“Because I was afraid,” I say finally, after several seconds of silence.
The truth. The ugly, selfish, undeniable truth.
If I had just been a little braver, a little bolder, a little smarter, maybe I could’ve saved Carla and Timothy.
I definitely could’ve saved me and Mikey a whole lot of grief.
Mami’s greatest talent was making sure we were driven by fear.
It’s what kept us close to home. Ultimately, it’s what kept us quiet too.
Where would we be if I’d just had the strength to be honest?
“If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve told someone in a heartbeat but…” I’m not sure how to finish that statement, so I don’t. I force myself to look Kai in the eyes as I confess to yet another dark truth nestled deep inside of me. “Now all I can do is regret it. For the rest of my life.”
No matter how this turns out—if I’m locked away forever or if Mami is—I can’t change what’s already happened.
Even if things change for the better—if Papi and Mikey finally get to come home, if we get a second chance to rebuild our lives together—we’ll always be haunted by our pasts. Justice will never be enough.
“People keep asking me how I feel about you. After everything…” he says, his eyes falling to the ground, and my heart rockets into my throat. “If I hate you for being… tied to her.”
I fully expect him to pull back from me.
Who would blame him? I’m still the murderer’s daughter.
And to some, I’m the reason two more people are dead.
If it wasn’t for me sneaking out, Timothy and Carla would still be alive.
That guilt is something I’ll never be able to shake off, but I’ve at least learned not to care what other people think of me.
I haven’t stopped caring about Kai, though. Or worrying about how he sees me.
But Kai doesn’t shy away from me. The way he looks at me is still soft and tender.
Like nothing has changed between us. “Those people weren’t there, though.
Didn’t hear all those awful things your mom said.
Didn’t see how hard you tried to save me.
And Kiki.” He looks as if he’s going to lean across the table to try to take my hand, but glances over at Mary and decides against risking it.
“You’re nothing like her,” he whispers instead. “No matter what anyone says.”
Even now, after everything that’s happened, Kai still knows how to say the exact right thing to make my heart swell.
The moment is bittersweet, though. The guilt too present for me to feel the full relief of Kai’s forgiveness, his assurance I’m not like Mami.
Tears cloud my vision, my hands trembling where they’re clasped in front of me on the table.
I look down just in time for the tears to splatter onto the table. “But I could’ve saved everyone.”
Mary shoots me a warning look. We’ve delved too close to what happened that night.
I don’t have enough fight left to push off the guilt, so I give myself over to it.
My whole body shakes from the force of my sobs as I hold my fists against my eyes, doing what I can to stop the tears, but I’ve learned the hard way that once they start they don’t stop easily.
A warmth flows through me as a hand reaches across the table to take mine—Kai, I realize when the familiar smell of him cuts through the fog of tears and snot and sobs.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers as he squeezes my hand.
Mary looks as though she’s going to protest, but ultimately decides against it.
I want to tell him that he doesn’t have to apologize. How could he have known about my best kept secret? The only one who should be sorry is me, and I’ll say it a thousand times and then a thousand more if it means he might believe me.
Once my sobs have subsided Kai delicately pulls back, but doesn’t let go of my hand, keeping our fingers linked at the center of the table. “Do you think you’ll get out of here soon?”
I shrug and sniffle as I wipe my damp cheeks. “I’m not sure.”
Nothing about my future is clear. If or when I get home.
What’ll happen to Papi if the jury is convinced I’m telling the truth.
Who Mikey and I will live with if I’m let out of here.
Best-case scenario, a jury sees the mountain of evidence against Mami and believes my testimony is the truth.
Worst-case scenario, Millcreek gets another juicy tabloid story about the girl who followed in her father’s killer footsteps.
I try not to dwell on the thought of it.
Everything about our future is out of my control.
I can’t predict how a jury will see me—whether they’ll believe anything I say or decide I’m a liar looking for revenge against a controlling mother.
But at least there’s small comfort in knowing some people believe me. Mary. Mikey. Kai. People who matter.
Kai brushes his thumb across the back of my hand. A simple gesture that still makes my skin ignite beneath his touch. “Are you okay?”
I shrug again, skin still prickling from the brief contact.
“I’m…” I’m a dozen things and nothing all at once.
Angry and guilty and exhausted. I’ve spent enough time dwelling on those thoughts, though.
It only feels right to focus on the good when I’m here with Kai—who, for so long, was my one good thing.
“Hopeful,” I finally say, and something loosens in the pit of my stomach.
A small chunk of the worry chipped away.
Kai snorts in a way that lights up the room almost as much as his smile. “Someone has to be.”
I can’t help but laugh, even though it’s not quite genuine, only about thirty percent of me behind it. “Look on the bright side,” he says with a hint of a smile as his thumb brushes along my knuckles this time. “Our next weekend trip can’t possibly be any worse than this one was.”
This time, nothing about my laugh is forced.
The sensation is unfamiliar, like riding a bike for the first time in years, but it’s like the opening of a dam.
It releases something inside me that’s been begging to be set free.
I laugh so hard it makes him laugh too. Until we’re laughing harder than the joke called for.
And maybe that’s wrong—to make a joke about something as horrible as what we went through together.
But as I wipe at the tears in the corners of my eyes—from joy, instead of pain, for once—I can’t find it in me to care.
I’m too relieved to be anything but happy.
Relieved that I’m still capable of laughter after everything that’s happened.
Relieved that Kai didn’t lash out—that there’s even the possibility of a next time when it comes to me and him.
Relieved that, maybe, I can still have the life I never thought I deserved.
Because I’m not letting anyone make me out to be a monster ever again. Not the public, not the headlines, and definitely not Mami. I’ve spent enough of my life letting other people decide what I deserve. I deserve joy. I deserve laughter. I deserve this. All of it, with a boy who deserves them too.