“Why did she cut her hair?” Dr. Winter asked me.
It caught me off guard and I sort of gasped and put my hand over my mouth. I had not expected her to ask me about Emma’s hair.
“Did she tell you anything, Cass? About why she cut her hair?”
Dr. Winter started turning the pages. She saw Emma with long, dark hair in the summer and early fall, and then the short cut just before the leaves were turning. It was above the ear, with severe angles and jagged corners.
“How did we not see these before?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “It wasn’t a secret.”
Dr. Winter’s face became curious. “This was the year those nude photos were taken, wasn’t it? Emma topless? Posted on the Internet?”
I was still silent, but I had forced my hand to drop back into my lap.
“Your brother told me about the photos. So did your father. Three years ago, during the investigation. How everyone thought it was Hunter. How Emma lied and said it was a friend goofing around, but then she couldn’t explain how Hunter got access to them.”
“Yes.” That was all I said.
“Did Emma feel so humiliated by the pictures that she cut her hair to feel better? Sometimes people do that, you know?”
I shook my head.
“Then why? Why did Emma cut her hair?”
“She didn’t,” I said finally.
Dr. Winter looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“Emma did not cut her hair,” I said more clearly.
“I don’t understand,” Dr. Winter said. She got up and moved closer to me. She placed a hand over my hand and squeezed it tight.
“No one told you about this? Before?” I asked. I never imagined this secret could be kept. Not with all the FBI agents and their skills and cunning. Somehow, Mrs. Martin had managed to do just that.
“No, they didn’t. Should someone have told us?”
I nodded.
“Can you tell me now?”
“That was the year of the photos. At the end of the summer. They got posted and my parents freaked out. They traced it back to our home computer, so everyone blamed Hunter.”
“Do you remember why they blamed him?”
“I don’t know,” I lied. “I don’t know that much about it.”
I did not want them getting distracted by talking to Hunter. I didn’t want them to get distracted by anything. And I did not want them digging into the things that happened in this house.
Another curious look came across her face. “So, Witt punched Hunter and Hunter slashed his tires, right?”
“Yes. And after all that, I asked to live with our father. I thought that maybe that would finally be enough.”
“No one said anything about that—and I didn’t see any court filings. I went through the entire case history. Did your father ever file a motion for custody?”
I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe they didn’t know. And now I would have to tell them and they would have to believe me.
“My father called the lawyer he had used in the divorce and she sent a letter to my mother’s lawyer threatening to file a motion to change the custody arrangements if she didn’t agree to it. My mother went crazy. I guess she started calling my father and making all kinds of threats, things she would tell the court about him that weren’t true. But he said he didn’t care. At least, that’s what he told me he said.
