Page 271 of Mad Girl

Believe me, I wish I never had.

“You should see her,” Nic said to someone. “She mopes around here. She barely eats. She looks like she’s awaiting her execution or something.”

“She’s manipulating you, Nic.” Libby’s voice. “She’s toying with your emotions. She’s just trying to get your sympathy.”

“No,” Nic said. “She’s upset. She’s scared. She needs me to talk to her. She needs her dad.”

“She needs you to be strong enough to do the right thing,” said Libby.

“And what if it’s not the right thing? What if it does more harm than good? What if she gets in there, and she can’t handle being left, and she really hurts herself? I won’t be able to live with myself if that happens.”

“They’ll take precautions to keep her safe. You know that. You’re just coming up with excuses not to send her—because you’re scared.”

“And for good reason, Lib. You both seem to forget that.”

“Nic,” said John, “we haven’t forgotten anything. It’s a concern of ours, too.”

“Yeah? It’s my worst fucking nightmare, John. What happens to me if something happens to her? Is that a concern of yours?”

“Of course it is,” John said softly. “I know why you don’t feel comfortable sending her, and you wouldn’t have to if you’d just…consider what I’ve been saying.”

My dad heaved a sigh.

John kept going. “You need to sit down with someone together and talk about the past. At some point, Nic—no”—some muttering by my dad—“Nic, you have to come clean, before you completely destroy your relationship with her. It’s like she said at brunch: we’ve been lying, and lies hurt. Our lies keep hurting this family, and they’re hurting her the most. So of course she’s acting out. Of course she’s taking out her frustration in ways that⁠—”

“Wait a minute, John,” Libby said. “Are you excusing what she did to the signs?”

A pause here, followed by another sigh—this time one of John’s. “No, Libby. I’m saying I understand why she did what she did, because you have been keeping secrets. We all have.”

“And you don’t think,” Libby said, “she’ll completely self-destruct when she learns the truth? I have to agree with Nic on this. The truth might do her more harm than good right now. She needs real help—before she can ever be expected to handle something of that magnitude.”

Not only did I badly want to know this “truth” my dad needed to tell me, but I didn’t like that they were discussing my behavior as if I belonged to all three of them. As if John or Libby should have any say in whether or not my dad sent me away.

“Look,” Nic said. “The campaign signs? That was bad, okay? But it didn’t cost you the election, and she didn’t physically hurt anyone. She just—she was having a hard time. I shouldn’t have let her skip all that therapy leading up to Halloween. I shouldn’t have stepped back when I did. So, really, this is my fault. If I just talk to her—if I can convince her to go back to therapy, she’ll⁠—”

“Nic,” Libby said. “You’re blaming yourself for Elliot’s behavior the same way you blamed yourself there at the end with Vicky. You’re blaming yourself instead of holding her accountable. Everyone told you to make Vicky leave, that she was never going to be what you wanted her to be, that her behavior would continue to escalate if you allowed it—and it did.”

“Right, and that was my fault,” said Nic. “I’m responsible for all of it. I’m to blame for Elliot’s issues, too—because I walked away. I left. I fucked up. And because of that, she’s fucked up. My daughter’s broken—and that’s on me.”

Want to talk about something that really breaks a person, Casey? That’s the moment I knew all my worst fears about myself were true. They had to be, right? How else could my dad call me broken?

I pushed off the wall and entered the kitchen. My dad slowly lifted up from the counter while the Harrises—both sitting in stools at the island—twisted to face me.

“So you admit it,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “I am messed up. You lied about that, too.”

Libby and John winced while my dad rushed over to me, his face paling, his eyes shining bright. “No, honey. No. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No,” he said, clutching me by the shoulders. “Baby, no.”

“I’m a horrible person. So John and Libby are right: you should send me away.”

“Elliot, you’re not a horrible person.”

“You don’t have to keep lying to make me feel better. You can tell me the truth. I’m so much like her that it scares you, right?”

Nic’s jaw hardened. “Libby never should’ve said that, and I don’t agree. I love you, Elliot. Exactly the way you are.”