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Every hair on my arms raises. This can't be good...
"He told me I'd remain his nighttime nanny, for however longed it pleased him. That I was to stop resisting him, or else..."
Finally, she drags her eyes back to center, flicking them between us with a harrowing look she tries so desperately to mask. But it's ghastly, haunted by shadows, as if the memory itself yanks her back to the past by her ankles, nails scratching and splintering along the floorboards.
I give her a subtle nod. It's okay.
"Or else he'd get you two kicked out of school."
Bile rises in my throat. IT'S NOT OKAY, IT'S NOT OKAY, IT'S—
Jeremy springs to his feet, nearly tripping over his chair, sprinting toward the kitchen, before hurling into the sink violently. As he dispenses the rest of his dinner, wave after wave, I only stare into Mom's eyes, fighting the tears in mine.
If what she's saying is true—which it is. I saw it with my own two eyes—that means Warren blackmailed our mother into having sex with him, or else her children couldn't attend private school. She could never afford the tuition without the scholarships, and Warren was on the school board. Riverside Prep's richest parent and most generous donator, the whole school knew.
He'd have our lockers cleaned out the very next day.
A groan signifies the end of Jeremy's sickness, before he comes clomping back to his seat. It's hard to look at him. I've never seen him so distraught, and I'm sure he'd say the same about me. As for our mother—the real victim of this story—by the way she angles her chin high, letting the truth ring clear, it tells me she doesn't think Warren deserves my tears.
So, I don't let them fall.
"Mom..." I kill the wobble in my voice—or try to. "That's..." Fuck. What does someone say to that? Now I understand why she was concerned about our guilt. Their affair lasted for two whole years. How did she withstand that? Another wave of bile hits me when I know the answer.
For her children's futures.
"I'm so sorry," I say, feeling useless.
"Don't be. Now, you listen here—both of you." She pushes Jeremy's shoulder, earning his attention. "I made my choice. I did what I did, and there's no reason either of you should feel any shame. He's the monster and to blame for all that happened."
"I know, but... it feels like he won."
"Did he?" Mom smirks. There's that defiance. "I made a point of moving on with my life, while he stayed the same man he's always been. And the best part, his sons went to Riverside, so he had to watch as I left him in the past."
That manages a smile from me, but damn, it's a crooked one.
Jeremy wakes from his daze, huffing a loud sound laced with anger. "I don't understand. Why would Warren pull the stunt that he did with Juliana, if he knows you have that incriminating tape?"
Mom scoffs, answering immediately. "I'll tell you why. It's simple, really. Warren's not all that hard to figure out, once you're under his talons. He underestimates women intellectually, and views them as inferior—probably stems from the relationship he saw from his parents. I'm sure he thinks I lost the evidence after all these years, or maybe I'm so dumb I threw it out. On top of that, Juliana, if he knew you were working with Hayden, he'd count on you blaming him for everything. Meaning, when you eventually turned to me for help, I wouldn't consider using the tape. It's dirt on Warren, not Hayden, after all."
I blink.
Then blink some more.
Swiveling my gaze onto Jeremy, I find him doing the same. What the hell's going on? Did I miss the story of when she obtained her psychology degree? Did our mother—who teaches second graders—walk straight from an episode of Criminal Minds?
If she didn't just roast Warren enough, Mom torches another blow, charring him around the edges. "It all links back to his arrogance, which makes him sloppy—and stupid."
Holy shit.
"U-uhm," I stammer, catching Mom's expression light up with delight. "So, uhh... what do you think is our best course of action?" Miss Detective.
"We march him straight to court."
My stomach drops.
Oh, no. I was worried she'd say that.
Noting my skepticism, she continues, "We might pull it off with this kind of evidence. Hire a lawyer and—"
