Page 104 of Play Nice

They look at each other.

“You really don’t remember?” Daphne asks.

“No. There…it was a pink lighter, right?”

“Being in that house, in that environment, it was bad for you,” Leda says. “You were acting out. And she was encouraging it. You did it because of her.”

“Wait, what? What are you saying?”

“Leda,” Daphne says.

“You were sleeping in our room. Mom and Roy wouldn’t let you in yours after the exorcism. We weren’t even allowed downstairs. Daffy and I woke up in the middle of the night and you were gone. We found you at the table talking to yourself. Giggling. Messing with the lighter. Burning yourself. You said it felt like nothing. Just like it said it would. It being an imaginary demon. It being Mom.”

I look to Daphne, but she won’t look back at me. “Daffy?”

“That’s what I remember,” she says. “You said you were playing with it. With the demon.”

“It was her fault. You were clearly in distress. Confused. She was brainwashing you. And when we told Dad, he had to explain to us how important it was that we help him get you out of there. Get us all out of there and away from her,” Leda says.

“So she didn’t do it,” I say. I sound the same, which is strange because everything is different. The world just changed color. “You knew, Dad knew—this whole time—that she didn’t do it, and you just let me believe it? You lied.”

“We didn’t lie, Clio. She was responsible,” Daphne says. “You don’t remember this stuff because you were fucking traumatized. She convinced you, a seven-year-old girl, that there was a demon living in her house. She made us afraid all the time. It was the right thing, and you know it.”

“Do I? I spent my whole life thinking my own mother burned me.”

“Dad did what he had to do to keep us safe. We did what we had to do. We couldn’t be there anymore,” Leda says. “And I’m not sorry. I don’t regret it. We saved you. It was only going to get worse. More dangerous. She was hosting exorcisms.”

“What do you remember about the exorcism?” I ask. “Jed? Ruth?”

“Who?”

“Do you remember a guy with bleeding ears? A lady with blue hair clawing her eyes out? Ambulances?”

“What? No,” Daphne says, shaking her head. “I remember a lady with blue hair, but the exorcism was just a bunch of yelling and Alexandra throwing herself down the stairs. She limped around after, but there was no ambulance.”

“It was all dramatics,” Leda says. “Whatever you read in the book, I promise you that is not how it happened. Would you please just trust us? The people who are here and love you.”

“You just admitted you’ve both been lying to me. And you just called me a sociopath.”

“Because you might be one! I’m trying to help you.”

“Enough with the armchair diagnosing, Leeds,” Daphne says. She downs the rest of her drink. “Maybe we should go to family therapy. With Dad and Amy. Get back to a healthy place.”

“Were we ever in a healthy place?” I ask, twisting my napkin for something to do with my hands. “Or is everything just a big lie?”

I wait for them to say something, to argue with me. But they don’t. Maybe that’s my answer.

“I’ll tell you something true. Something real,” I say, tossing my napkin aside and grabbing my purse. I get out my wallet, finger for some twenties, drop the cash on the table anticipating what’s coming next. “The house is haunted.”

Daphne closes her eyes again. “Clio. Come on.”

“You don’t believe that,” Leda says.

“I do. It is haunted. There’s something there. It’s always been there. The demon or whatever it is. It’s real.”

“What are you talking about?” Daphne asks, her face going pale.

“It communicates with me. I’ve heard it. And it draws. Leaves me messages. I have another copy of Mom’s book. It’s written inside it.”