“I think they expected me to heal them. Actually, Iknowthat now because they were more desperate during the last few calls, and when I mentioned Zane, they got angry, making me feel likeit was my fault. It took me until yesterday to realize they’d been emotionally abusing me. They—”
“They what?” Dad’s raised voice booms from behind me, and I spin around so fast I get dizzy.
“Dad, I thought—”
“Repeat what you just said. I want to make sure I understand correctly.”
I swallow a lump in my throat, the pain in his eyes too much to handle. But still, I do as he asked. “I think they were emotionally abusing me. But I’m not sure they realized it. They wanted me to talk through what happened over and over, to tell them stories about Sierra, to keep her spirit alive. But they made me feel guilty if I couldn’t. As though I was adding to their pain.”
Dad’s still when I glance up at him, his hands balled into fists by his sides. “How often did they call?”
“In the early days, I met them for lunch often, but when I went away to college, they called weekly. They—”
“Weekly?” Dad’s nostrils flare as he steps forward, shaking his head. “I understand their need to heal, but you were a kid. It wasn’t your responsibility to heal them.”
“I was almost an adult, Dad, and—”
“No, Blair. How the hell were you supposed to move forward, if they kept dragging you back? Nooneperson should be someone else’s life raft. Especially not someone who’s sinking as deeply as they are. Jesus Christ.” Dad groans, and if I wasn’t already broken from seeing Zane’s hopeless expression as the police dragged him away, my dad’s anguish would probably shatter me. “You were a mess, Blair. For years. And they…” His voice cracks, and he trails off. “I should have known; I should have done something.”
“No.” I jump up from my chair, sending it skidding across the vinyl floor before running toward Dad, my heart pounding. “I never told you because I thought I was handling it, and in thebeginning, I thought it would help me too. It’s only recently that I let myself stop and think about the toll their calls were taking on me. More so when I realized what they’d done to Zane. He’s got no one, Dad. And now this.”
“He’s gotus.”
“What if that’s not enough?” I sniff back fresh tears, and Dad stiffens, lifting my face so he can look in my eyes.
“It’s more than enough. I’m going to fix this.” His gaze burns with determination as he stands tall, his knuckles white from clenching.
“What?”
“I’ve got to go.”
“Dad?”
He presses a kiss to my head and turns to walk away, stopping when he comes face to face with Reed Coombs. Hayley and Keeley walk in behind him, followed by an older guy I don’t know but who I’m guessing is their team owner, Salvatore D’Angelo.
“Hi.” Reed smiles and waves before he shakes his head. “Sorry, that was a little too cheery for the situation.”
Hayley snorts and I have to admit, my lips pull into a grin.
“We’ll welcome any cheer we can get.” Mom steps forward. “I’m Florence, this is my husband, Tim, and I think you know Blair.” She waves in my direction and Hayley bounces in anticipation.
“We do. At least Keeley and I do. Hi, Blair.”
Our new arrivals introduce themselves, and my mom smiles warmly.
“Thanks for coming,” Dad finally says, his mind clearly on wherever he was going. “I’ll let Blair and Florence fill you in on what we know. I have somewhere to be.”
“Wait.” I grab Dad’s hand, pulling him to a halt. “What’s going on?”
“I think I know how I can help Zane.”
“How?”
“I’ll tell you everything when I get back.” He squeezes my hand before releasing it, then beelines for the door. “Excuse me for rushing off.”
“I’m coming with you.” Reed stops him, his expression serious. “I’m here to help.”
“Not a chance, Coombs.” Mr. D’Angelo steps forward, his stare offering no room for negotiation. “You’re staying out of this. You’re here for support and to provide your statement to the police on another matter. You’re not getting involved.”
