My jaw clenches, and I stand, pacing across the room. I can’t sit still with all this anger bubbling up inside me. I feel like I’m going to explode. “Dylan told us today. She ran into him at the game this afternoon, and it all came out. I just… I don’t understand how this stayed buried for so long. How the hell didn’t anyone know? Did Holly know? Is that what she was hinting at in the kitchen a few months ago?”
Dad’s quiet for a long time, and I know he’s trying to piece this together as much as I am. He sighs heavily. “I don’t think Holly knew Matthew. If she had, she would’ve told me. No way she would have let something like this slide.”
“It was an assault,” I say, my voice hard, a raw edge to it. “If she knew, and didn’t say anything... that’s fucked up, Dad.”
“I know,” he says quietly, and I can hear the weight in his voice, the uncertainty. “Look, I’m not going to say Holly’s perfect, but I don’t believe she knew. Let me find out, alright? I’ll talk to her.”
I take a deep breath, my chest tightening as I try to get a grip on everything spinning out of control in my head. “Yeah. Okay. Call me when you find out.”
“I will. I’m sorry you’re going through this, son. And I’m sorry Dylan had to deal with that. We’ll figure it out.”
I end the call and let out a shaky breath, my hand still wrapped tight around the phone like it’s some kind of lifeline. But it doesn’t feel like enough. I want to fix it, to make sure Brock never comes near her again.
The door to my bedroom creaks open, and Ford steps inside, his eyes finding mine immediately. He looks worried, and it sends a stab of guilt straight through me. We’re all so fucking worried.
“You alright?” Ford asks softly, coming over to me.
I nod, even though I’m far from alright. “Called my dad. He’s gonna talk to Holly, find out if she knew anything.”
Ford’s expression darkens slightly, his hand resting on my shoulder. “Do you think she did?”
I shrug, my jaw tight. “I don’t know, man. She said some weird shit a few months ago, and now I’m wondering if this is what she was hinting at. But if she knew...”
“You don’t want to go there,” Ford says, squeezing my shoulder. “Not until we know for sure.”
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “It’s just fucked up, you know? How could something like this have happened, and none of us knew? How could she keep that to herself?”
“She’s strong,” Ford murmurs. “Stronger than most people give her credit for.”
“She shouldn’t have had to be strong like that,” I snap, the anger flaring back up. “She shouldn’t have had to deal with him.”
Ford doesn’t argue with me, but he doesn’t say anything to fuel the fire either. It’s what I love about him. He doesn’t panic, doesn’t lose his cool, even when everything around him is falling apart. And right now, I feel like I’m about to come apart at the seams.
“Let me know when your dad calls back,” Ford says quietly, before stepping out of the room again.
The silence that follows is thick, suffocating. I sit back down on the bed, my hands still trembling, even though I try to hide it. I’m not used to feeling this powerless, this lost. I’m used to being in control, always knowing what to do. But now? Now, all I can do is wait.
An hour drags by, then two, before my phone buzzes on the blanket beside me. I grab it immediately, my heart pounding as I see my dad’s name on the screen.
“Yeah?” I answer, not even bothering with pleasantries.
“Holly didn’t know,” Dad says, his voice strained. “She knew about Brock and Dylan being together but not the assault. She’s not taking it well.”
I let out a breath but it doesn’t feel like relief. It feels... complicated. Because now I don’t know who to be angry with, or if I should be angry at all. I don’t know where to put all this rage that’s been burning in me since Dylan told us about Brock.
“That’s not my problem,” I say flatly, my chest tightening. “I don’t care how she’s handling it. It’s not about her.”
“I know,” Dad says quietly. “But I thought you should know. She’s... she’s upset.”
“Good for her,” I mutter, my voice cold. “She’s not the one who got hurt.”
“Matthew,” Dad starts, but I cut him off.
“Look, I’m done talking about this.”
Dad sighs heavily on the other end of the line. “Just... be careful, alright? I know this is hard, but don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, hanging up before he can say anything else.
