My whole body feels rigid with anticipation.Please God, I pray, hoping this story is not going to end up with my daughter assaulted. I feel fury—at Van, at myself for not knowing. “Go on.”
“I actually climbed out the window onto that low roof thing and then climbed down their trellis.”
“You did what?”
“Yeah, I’m not even kidding. He was like, ‘If you want to leave, you have to climb out the window.’ So I did. I was crying. I was actually scared he might hurt me.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Or your dad?” She doesn’t answer, but her eyes flit to Miguel. And then I know. “You did call your dad.”
She nods. “He came and got me.”
“I see.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Don’t be mad, Mom. It was, like, three in the morning. I had been drinking, I was upset and I didn’t want to deal with alot of questions. Dad came and got me and took me home. It’s not that deep.”
I can see it all in my mind like a movie, a terrified Rachel fending off Van, forced to climb out the window and down a trellis in her homecoming dress. She must have been confused, humiliated. And in that moment, she knew that she could count on her father to come rescue her. I don’t begrudge them their closeness. What mother wouldn’t want her daughter to feel loved and supported by her father? But it stings, like lemon juice on a paper cut.
“So that’s why you stopped wanting to go to school? Because of what happened with Van? Did he harass you at school?”
“What?” She snorts. “No.” She looks away, biting her lower lip. “It wasn’t Van. It was Eloïse. She called me a liar when I told her what happened. Told everyone I was ‘mentally unstable’ and making up stories about her brother because I was in love with him. Her friends, my friends, started calling me ‘psycho.’ Literally, they’d whisper ‘psycho’ when I walked by. They’d text me, like, self-harm tests and mental-health screenings, and, like, suicide hotline memes.”
“That is disgusting. I am so sorry.”
Rachel laughs bitterly. “Yeah, well, whatever. I always knew Eloïse could be like that. I just never thought she would do it to me.”
“Horrible. I am so sorry you had to go through all that.” I wrap my arms around her.Why didn’t you tell me?I want to scream. I don’t dare look at Miguel. I can’t process the fact that he’s kept all this from me, not right now anyway. That’s a cut so deep I fear the pain might swamp me. I need to focus on Rachel. As much as it is ripping me apart, I have to accept thatshe didn’t come to me when she was going through all this. But she’s talking to me now. I cling to that.
“Whatever.” Rachel pushes her hair off her face. “It’s over. I transferred. And I gave everything back, or I thought I did. But then, like a month ago, I found the bracelet and I was just so grossed out by the whole thing. I was like, I do not want this in my life anymore. I thought about reaching out to her, but honestly, I really don’t want to talk to Eloïse. So I threw it away. I mean, I should have thrown it away. But I put it in the donation bag. I didn’t know you would find it. I’m so sorry.” She catches my eye. “Is Van going to go to jail? Am I going to go to jail?”
“No, you’re not going to jail.” I take her trembling hand in mine. “I’m glad you told me the whole story.” I can’t resist shooting Miguel a pointed look.
“I’m glad too.” She squeezes my hand. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but they agreed that the fewer people who knew, you know, the less likely Van and Noah would get in trouble.”
“Noah?” I suck in my breath. “He was involved too?”
She nods. “I mean, I honestly don’t care what happens to Van. But Noah? I feel like he just did whatever Van told him to do, even if he didn’t want to. It’s, like, actually sad. And I didn’t want to see Noah get in trouble.” Her loyalty to her childhood friend seeps through her words, genuine and touching despite everything.
“Right. That makes sense.” I nod slowly, processing. “Who’s the ‘they’? You said ‘they agreed.’”
“Caren, I think that’s enough for today.” Miguel’s discomfort is palpable but it only makes me want to keep pushing.
“What?” I bristle. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“You know, Van’s parents.” Rachel glances up at Miguel and smiles. “And Dad.”
My half smile freezes in place. “You knew about the stolen jewelry?” I ask him, trying to keep my voice light and pleasant.
“Don’t be mad at him, Mom. Dad was the one who actually arranged it all with Van’s parents. You know, returning everything so I didn’t have to deal with the Allards.” She says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, unaware of the earthquake happening inside me. “He was trying to help.”
The betrayal hits me, stealing my breath. Behind Rachel, Miguel clears his throat. “Don’t worry, baby girl. It’s all in the past.”
She swivels her head from parent to parent, checking to see if all is okay in her world. I keep a small smile plastered on my face, which is enough to soothe her worries. She gives Miguel a hug and a kiss and then the same for me. “I love you guys so much,” she says, standing up. “Like, I truly appreciate you as parents. So many parents would be just awful about this, and you guys are so understanding.”
“You’re a good kid,” Miguel says. “Now go have some fun tonight.”
We sit there as Rachel bounds out of the room, her footsteps thundering up the stairs, leaving a charged silence in her wake.
I turn to face Miguel. “You knew about Van. You knew she was seeing him, and he basically assaulted her? You knew he gave her stolen jewelry, and you’ve known for all this time.” Each word is as sharp as broken glass. “When I asked you about it the other day, you told me not to jump to conclusions. But you kneweverything.”
