“Don’t worry,” Chad said. “We were going to reach out to you.”
“You were?”
“Of course,” he said. “You were Sarah’s best friend. This book wouldn’t be complete without you. We’d love to interview you for it.”
“Or if you’d rather write a piece, like an essay about her,” Ruth suggested. “It could be a whole chapter. We know she’d want you involved.”
I cleared my throat. This was my moment. And now my legs were trembling, too. “About that,” I said. “I … I don’t think I can be a part of the book.”
“Why not?” Ruth asked. “Is something wrong, Leanne?”
“There’s … there’s something you should know about what happened,” I said. “During the shooting.”
Chad’s face went pale. Ruth reached across the table and squeezed his hand, her eyes never leaving my face.
I took a deep breath. “The thing that you think happened, with Sarah and the necklace andhim… It’s not exactly … It didn’t happen.”
“Excuse me?” Chad said.
“I don’t know how this whole thing got started, and I should have told you years ago. It didn’t happen like that. At all. She wasn’t even wearing a necklace that day, and he didn’t talk to her. Not a word.”
“Stop.” Ruth’s voice was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear.
But I couldn’t stop. The words came out like a waterfall pouring over a cliff. “We were in the stall and she was holding my hand and he just … he shot her. He didn’t talk to her. He didn’t ask her anything.”
“Stop.” She was louder now, but her voice cracked. “Stop, Leanne.”
“But you need to know. You can’t write this book.”
“Why would you say this?” Ruth asked. “Why would you lie about Sarah?”
“I’m not lying,” I said. “I know this is hard to hear but—”
Chad was standing now, his hands clenched at his sides. He looked so much larger all of a sudden. I’d never considered Sarah’s father to be an intimidating man, but now he seemed to tower over me. “You need to go, Leanne.”
“Please. I’m just trying to—”
“You need to go,” he repeated. “I won’t have you lying about our daughter, trying to tarnish her memory. Not in my house. Get out.”
I looked imploringly at Ruth, but she was looking at me like I was a complete stranger. Like I’d just peeled off a mask and revealed that, no, I wasn’t the little girl they’d welcomed into their house for years. Instead, I was some hideous, venom-spitting beast. And, worse, there were tears in her eyes. I’d made a woman who’d never been anything but kind and loving to me cry.
It was clear they weren’t going to believe me.
Maybe, I realize now, they couldn’t.
“Leanne,” Chad said, his voice deeper, angrier. “Leave. Now.”
I stood up. “Thank you for dinner,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
I walked to my truck in a daze. I knew they might not take it well, but I hadn’t expected to be kicked out of a house that, at one time, had been like a second home to me. To be called a liar by people who once called me family.
I thought I had been doing the right thing. But … I don’t know. Maybe there was another way. Maybe I could have told them differently. Maybe I should’ve just told them three years ago.
I guess it doesn’t matter now.
But, Chad, Ruth, if somehow, at some point, you end up reading this, I really am sorry. And I hope you know that nothing I’ve done diminishes how much I cared about Sarah. I know you think I’ve tarnished her memory, but her memory can never really be tarnished. Not for me. I’ll always remember her as the girl who could make me laugh so hard that I couldn’t breathe, who stood up for me even when it wasn’t the “cool” thing to do, who loved me even when she didn’t understand me.
She didn’t have to die a martyr to be my hero.
