The urge to back off tugged at me. This girl had been hurt. But she had hurt others, too. Leah was dead. My daughter was a suspect. Sympathy couldn't override that.
I let a beat stretch between us. The chains on the empty swings rattled in the breeze. A crow called from somewhere beyond the oaks. "Why did you really cut Leah's hair?"
"The hair thing was months ago," she said. "Like, forever. It doesn't matter now."
"It mattered to Leah," I said. "She wrote about it. It traumatized her."
Alexis's jaw worked. She took a step back until her spine brushed the swing's chain. Metal clinked softly.
"She saw."
"Saw what?"
"Stuff she shouldn't have." Her laugh was humorless. "Welcome to the Brooke August Experience."
"You're talking about your mom."
"No, I'm talking about Santa Claus."
"Leah saw your mom hurt you," I said to clarify. "At your house."
Alexis gave a sharp nod. "She was there for the Christmas party. My mom was drunk. Falcon was having another tantrum, about to go off in front of everybody, and I didn't catch it fastenough. She got pissed. We were in the kitchen, she grabbed my arm and shook me, told me I was ruining everything, God forbid someone see Falcon throw his goldfish crackers at the wall."
I had attended the Christmas party, but I hadn’t seen this incident. I pictured it. The immaculate kitchen. The Christmas lights twinkling, candles on the mantle, the towering Christmas tree. Brooke's smile, slipping like a mask, turning feral. "Leah walked in on it."
"Yeah. A Front row seat. My mom didn't know she was there. But I saw Leah hanging in the doorway, doing that innocent doe-eyed Bambi thing of hers."
"Did she threaten to tell?"
"Leah didn't say anything at first. But then a few days later, at school, she asked if I was okay. If I needed help. If she should tell someone."
"And you panicked."
"I might've freaked out, okay?" Alexis' mouth twisted. "If anyone found out—CPS, the school, my dad—everything would blow up. My whole life would get ripped apart. Falcon would end up in some facility. I'd probably get stuck in some boarding school half-way across the country. My dad sure doesn't want to pay attention to us."
"You hurt her to keep her quiet."
"I cornered her in the bathroom during art. Told her to keep her big mouth shut. She said she was just trying to help, that she was worried about me. I grabbed the scissors I'd brought from the art room, and I just... I wanted to scare her. Make her understand how serious I was."
I felt sick. "You assaulted her."
"I needed her to know she couldn't just say and do whatever she wanted. And she didn't, after that, did she? So, it worked." The words came out flat. She was trying so hard to be tough, impenetrable.
"Is that why you sent threatening messages to Mia, too?" I asked.
Her pupils dilated. A flush crawled up her neck. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said too fast. Deflecting again.
"Alexis. I've seen the LakeshoreTea account. You had it open on your phone just a minute ago."
She swallowed and shifted her gaze to Falcon. He had lost the ball in the leaves and was circling, muttering to himself, hands patting the ground. Apollo danced around him.
"You told her to keep her mouth shut. Or she'd end up like Leah. Ring a bell?"
"I wasn't going to actually do anything. It was just—" She made a frustrated noise. "You don't get it."
"Then explain it to me."
She watched Falcon again. He was making Apollo sit before each throw. Apollo faked compliance, then lunged for the ball early. Falcon corrected him, voice low, patient.
