“Oh God,” she said softly. “What happened?”
I tried to speak. Nothing came out.
My mouth opened again. Closed. My throat burned like I’d swallowed glass.
Mom crossed the room in three strides and sat beside me, her hand warm and solid on my knee. “Honey. You’re shaking.”
I looked down then—really looked—and realized she was right. My hands were trembling violently, like I’d been dropped into ice water.
“It was Sage,” I whispered.
Mom’s jaw tightened. She’d never liked Sage. Never trusted the way she swept into my life and rearranged it like furniture.
“What did she do?” she asked quietly.
I swallowed. “She’s… she’s in Ethan’s house.”
Her hand stilled.
“In his house,” I repeated, voice cracking. “In Vermont. He’s out of the country. She broke in.”
Mom’s brows knit together. “Beth?—”
“She’s flooding it,” I rushed on, words tumbling out now that they’d started. “Basement, bathroom—everything. She smashed glass. Slashed his mattress. She’s burning his clothes. She said—” My voice broke. “She said it was foreplay. That he loves her crazy.”
Mom stared at me, color draining from her face.
“Oh my God.”
“She’s completely detached from reality,” I said, tears spilling freely now. “She thinks he’ll come home and thank her. That he’ll fuck her on the ruins.”
Mom stood abruptly. “We’re calling the police.”
“No!” I shot to my feet, panic flaring white-hot. “No, Mom, please?—”
“Beth, this is a crime,” she said firmly. “Multiple crimes.”
“She’s my best friend,” I sobbed. “I can’t do that to her. I can’t be the reason she goes to jail.”
Mom grabbed my shoulders gently but firmly, forcing me to meet her eyes. “Listen to me. She is endangering herself and others. If you do nothing and someone gets hurt?—”
“I know,” I cried. “I know. But if I call the police, I’ll destroy her. She already thinks everyone betrays her.”
“And what if she burns the house down?” Mom shot back. “What if someone else gets hurt? What ifyouget hurt?”
That landed.
A sick, hollow feeling opened in my chest.
“I can’t just stand here,” I whispered. “I can’t pretend I didn’t hear it.”
Mom exhaled slowly, reining herself in. “Then call him,” she said. “The homeowner. Give him a chance to handle it.”
I nodded, hands slick with sweat. My phone felt impossibly heavy as I picked it up.
“What if he hates me?” I asked quietly. “What if she finds out it was me?”
Mom softened, brushing my hair back like she used to when I was little. “You’re doing the right thing,” she said. “Sometimes that’s the part that hurts the most.”
