Forty-One Grace
It took every ounce of self-control I had not to burn Frank’s house to the ground before coming back to Geny’s.
The hate I feel for him is so visceral it hurts.
He’s taken everything from me, and it started so long ago.
From the first time he left his hand on my knee a little too long.
And when he said he wouldn’t tell my dad about catching me with a wine cooler on the beach. It’ll be our little secret.
Why would he frame my dad for his indiscretions? Maybe he was in danger of being found out and he had to point the finger at someone else. Maybe my dad was just the next person in his way.
Whatever the reason, he’s taken too much. I swear, if it weren’t also Tina’s house, I might have torched the place. But that won’t keep him safe for long. I smile over dinner and keep up my happy face. I even hug him goodbye despite the way it makes my skin burn.
Geny stands in the living room while Wyatt goes back into the kitchen for something. She stares ahead blankly.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Hmm? Yes.” She looks my way but not really at me.
She looks tired.
“Why don’t you go up to bed? I’ll clean up and head out after.”
She looks at me like I’ve just asked if I can shave her head for fun. I take half a step back.
“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
She laughs but it’s clear she isn’t finding anything funny. “No thanks,” she says. “You go ahead home. I’ll clean up.”
“No way. I said I’d take care of everything. I’m not going to make you clean up the dinner I hosted at your house.”
“You’re not making me do anything, Grace. Like you said, it’s my house.”
Her tone is bitter, but before I can say anything she bursts into tears. I don’t think about it, I just wrap my arms around her. She lets me and lays her head on my shoulder. She shakes from her sobs as she mumbles “I’m sorry” over and over again.
“It’s okay, Geny. Everything is okay.”
I look up at movement behind my sister to see Wyatt.
I give him a warning look, and he retreats into the kitchen quietly.
This is a moment for me to be here for my sister.
I pull Geny to the couch and gently push her to sit.
Her face is blotchy, and she reminds me so much of her teenage self right now that I could start crying myself.
“Talk to me,” I say.
She shakes her head like she’s trying to collect herself. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine. Sorry. I’m okay.” She sniffs and tries to stand up.
“Stop.” I pull her back to the couch. “Don’t push me away. I know I haven’t been here for you, but I’m here now. Let me in. Like you used to.”
She laughs. “Right. Because we were always so open with each other.”
I nod, biting my lip. “We weren’t always. But we were once.”
“You mean you remember?”
I bite back my sigh because I walked into that. “Yes, I remember.”
We both sit in silence with the lie we both know is a lie.
My hands and feet are tingling, begging me to get up and do something with the knowledge I’ve uncovered.
But my sister needs me. And what does any of it matter without her?
Even if I stop Frank and tell the world he’s the bad guy — not my dad or all the other people he’s hurt — what does it matter if I don’t have my sister at the end of it?
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Her eyes glance up to mine. “For what?”
“For everything. For not coming home. For coming back the way I did. For everything you went through by yourself because I was gone. For not telling you everything now.” I grab her hands and squeeze them.
“But, Geny, I promise I will tell you everything soon. Just trust me, okay? I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I’m begging you to give it to me anyway. Just this one time.”
She stares at me for a long few seconds. “Okay,” she says.
I can’t tell if she actually believes me or if she’s just saying what I want to hear. I stand up and walk to the kitchen to collect a few of the things I brought from our parents’ house. Wyatt is cleaning up, and I know I just have a few seconds.
“Please keep an eye on her. She’s not doing well. And things are about to get worse before they get better.”
I walk back into the hallway just as Geny is walking toward the kitchen. She doesn’t want me alone with Wyatt and I won’t push her.
“I love you, Gen.” I hug her and she wraps her arms around me. I let the hug linger. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
I feel her nod and then we let go.
I walk to my car, feeling my body warm with anger the closer I get to Frank’s stash of pictures.
I have to trust that Wyatt will take care of my sister because I need to put my full focus on Frank.
I might not walk away from this. Not without handcuffs, anyway.
But it’s something I’ve come to accept over the last few hours.
Prison isn’t ideal, but it’s better than the life of anonymity I’ve lived for half my life.
At least the people I love will know where I am.
They can visit. They can write. It’s more than I ever had before.