Chapter 100
NOVA play: Afraid by The Neighbourhood
Iknew something was wrong the day Mr. Reynolds died.
My father wouldn’t let me go to the funeral, and what was worse was that he wouldn’t let me visit Jay.
‘You’re much too busy with deadlines. I’m trusting you to head up comms—at such a young age, too. Don’t make me look like a fool for putting someone as incompetent as you in charge.’
I’d gone to the funeral anyway, and that was the first time my father beat me to the point I thought he might actually kill me. I’d had to learn how to cover bruises with makeup to avoid awkward questions at my weekly check-ins with my creative directors.
The thing was, I’d never wanted to work at Neurovance. I’d wanted to be an art therapist.
But of course, I could never tell my dad that.
I was regretting not pursuing art therapy right now, as I thought it might help a lot with the grieving.
Imagining living the rest of my life without the warm, comforting presence I’d found in my relationship with Mr. Reynolds was so devastating that I spent nearly every moment alone, violently crying.
I wanted to be with Jay, both to comfort him and so he could comfort me. But my father refused to allow it.
He’d grown more and more bitter towards the Reynolds family, and I knew he wanted me to follow suit.
But there was nothing he could do to turn me against Jay.
Jay had saved me.
There had been so many times when just waking up in the morning had been so lonely and hard, but it had always been worth it because I knew later, I could go to Jay’s house and we would do stupid shit together that wasn’t meaningful or productive. We just… hung out. And it made me so, so happy.
Happiness wasn’t something I would ever take for granted. It wasn’t something I was blessed with often, so no matter how hard my father tried to pit me against Jay, deep down, I could never hate him.
Not when he’d given me so much.
But… Jay didn’t have one calculating bone in his body. He would never try to manipulate anybody, so it was hard for him to see when others were trying to manipulate him.
I needed to protect him, and so, I found myself playing into my father’s little staged feud, hoping it would appease him and he would eventually just leave Jay alone.
Those hopes were quickly beginning to feel futile, however, as I suspected my father was escalating. I worried he had had something to do with Mr. Reynolds’ death. I was old enough now to see his greed, but I didn’t have any evidence, and I was still so young—barely an adult.
It was my word against his, so I kept quiet, hoping for a long time that I was wrong.