My eyes are puffy and swollen from all the crying. Even my body feels sore, and it took me too long to pull myself together before leaving everything behind and driving back to my mom's house. I step into the kitchen, and the second she sees my face, she lowers the heat on the stove, knowing that I need her comfort. “Mommy…”
“Veve,” she whispers, already meeting me halfway and catching me in her arms. My mother pulls me tight against her chest, stroking my hairas the sobs rip through me, making my body shake with each pained sound. It’s an ugly cry—painful, shoulders shaking, and grief spilling out fast… so fucking messy.
“Everything hurts,” I choke. “I don’t know how to stop. Mommy… it hurts.”
“I know, baby,” she murmurs into my hair. “I know.”
She pulls back slightly, her thumb brushes my cheek, while I study her expression that shifts between sorrow and something far more serious, causing my brows to furrow. The tears stop then.
“Sit,” she says, pulling me towards the dining room table. “There’s something you need to hear.” My stomach drops, and even as my feet drag, I obey. My mom sits across from me, folding her hands tightly. “Priscilla isn’t going to trial.”
I blink. “What?”
“She accepted a plea deal,” my mom continues quietly. “It’s all over the news. Looks like she was a victim of her husband, too, so she can have parole after half the time.”
“How much?”
She shakes her head nervously, exhaling a shaky breath. “Twenty-five.”
Blood rushes to my ears, so loud I can’t hear anything else my mom is saying. I should be happy that she will at least be in jail for a long time, but knowing there’s a chance she can be free… No, I can’t live with that. Not when she is responsible for every piece of me that died. The room spins.
No trial.
No closure.
No truth.
Just paperwork and shitty sentences that would allow her to walk away after everything. A victim. I could laugh at that… I’m a victim. Isaac. But that bitch was a willing participant. Rage rips through me, exposing my bitterness. “She gets to skip all of it?” I mutter. “Just like that, it’s over for her.” My voice cracks. “What aboutme? What about what she did to Iz? How is that fair? I’m avictimtoo.”
My mom wipes away her tears as she tries to be the voice of reason. “She’ll still be in prison.”
“But she won’t have to look at me,” I whisper. “She won’t have to hear what she did. She won’t have to hear my voice because she silenced me and every otherfuckingvictim.” My mom reaches for my hand, and I pull it away, covering my face.
“I can’t take any more.” I sob into my hand. “I’m trying, Mom. I’m trying so hard.” The chair squeaks against the floor as she moves around the table and kneels beside me.
“You survived the worst thing that could happen,” she whispers. “You will survive this, too.” This time, when she holds me again, I collapse into my mother's arms. Crying into her shoulder, begging silently for the universe to give me a break.
Just once… so I can breathe….
“You need to find it in your heart to move on, Veve.” Her words echo into my psyche like a curse. Bouncing off in my head, when I realize that I don’t have to be silent… not this time…
After what feels like an eternity of crying, Mom goes back to cooking, and I watch another round of Twilight with Nixie until she’s fast asleep on the couch.
Lex:
How’d it go?
Me:
As I expected, Max was Max till the end.
Bubbles appear and disappear and then a call.
I answer it and quickly stand, making sure not to startle Nixie. Walking towards the front door and stepping out to the porch. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Lex responds. “I don’t… Have you seen–” I cut her off before she continues to feel bad about even bringing it up, taking a seat on the wooden rocking chair. “Yes, I heard.”
“How do you feel? Does Isaac know?”
