I will calm down, all right, when she stops making mesound like I'm the same as my fucking father. I'm not. And I will kill anyone who tells me different.
"Lyndall is smart, with a good head on her shoulders, and she's young and wanting to be older, but she's young."
"I know that," I push out.
"What I mean is she isn't experienced. She called him her boyfriend but said they never kissed and... they weren't having sex. She was upset after a fight, and he comforted her. Maybe she tried to kiss him, and maybe he wanted to kiss her. Hell, maybe there have been talks about kisses, but he works for your dad, so that makes things complicated. And I believe her when she told me what they did, and in that, what they didn't do. And they didn't have sex. I mean...were they naked?"
Heat radiates from me. "He didn't say."
"So, they weren't, because your father strikes me as the kind of man who would tell you the gory details if they were naked or doing it. Right?"
I just stare at her.
She is not fucking helping, and she has the gall to stare right back, exasperation all over her pretty face.
"She likes this guy."
"Eighteen's too old."
"Twenty is even older."
"Oh, fuck. He told her that was his age?"
She shrugs. "He mentioned twenty and twenty-two, so who knows? Maybe she was just trying to impress me. She wants to be grown up, but...like any girl, she has crushes. Thing is she is more excited about music."
"Her violin? She's a fucking virtuoso, of course she is."
"I mean that got her more passionate than some guy. Talk to her, but tomorrow."
I push a hand through my hair. "She still shouldn't bedoing things with an adult in her room. Fifteen and eighteen is too much."
And I don't even dare say a thing about how horny I was back then. But that is why I'm upset. It could have happened and?—
"You need to trust her, Enzo. At least enough so she tells you the truth. That means not yelling or threatening or anything like that."
"I never signed up for any of this. Like boys and men and sex and kissing. Or even just hugging in her room. I know where that leads."
"Maybe he's a better guy than you."
I narrow my eyes at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She spreads her hands. "Lyndall feels invisible to your father. Maybe she's acting out, and maybe she did get upset, and he comforted her."
"In her room?"
"I never said it was right, but if they're close, then..."
"Fuck."
"I'm going to bed. I'm going to take the other guest room." She rubs her eyes. "But just think about this. From the little I know of her, it is obvious Lyndall looks up to you the most out of anyone else in her life. She thinks you're amazing. So, you should keep trying to be that person for her."
I think I get about two hours of sleep on the sofa, and my dreams are nightmares of me having to save my sister from horrible situations over and over again.
I wake to Lyndall peering at me, and it takes everything I have not to scream. "What the fuck?"
"It's six a.m. When's Dad coming to drag me to hell?"
"He's not." I sit up and take the coffee she has made with a muttered thanks. "Where's?—"
