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My father.
The most shocking thing, though, was the photos of me older. Taken like paparazzi photos at a distance. There was even one of me and Cameron at the harbor. I had my arm around her shoulders, and we were laughing about something. There were two pink streaks of dye in the front strands of her hair.
“This was only taken a few years ago.” Cameron reached out to touch the photo. “What? How?”
My father had obviously been watching my life from afar. Pushing through the constriction in my throat, I glanced back at a hovering Valerie. “When did he die?”
She knew who I meant.
“Barry died around six months ago.”
Hearing my father’s name for the first time in decades made me flinch.
“Genny came to us in January, a few months before he died of a heart attack.” Her expression tightened. “Her mother died of cancer eighteen months ago. There were unfortunately missed flags raised by several of her teachers throughout the years. Lots of absences, which meant Genny’s educational development isn’t where it should be.”
Hence the misspelled words in her letters.
“Finally, social services received a call from a concerned neighbor at the beginning of the year and … well, I can’t go into it, but it was a very bad situation. She was taken from Barry’s care, and he was charged but he died before his sentencing.”
Loathing for that man made it hard to breathe. Or think.
Cameron seemed to sense my inability to respond. “How old is Genny?”
“She’s sixteen. Her mother married Barry I believe when she was eleven.”
“So, he was out of prison for at least five years,” Cameron murmured.
Valerie nodded. “I wasn’t aware he’d been in prison until speaking with Genny’s counselor.”
Was Genny aware? Did she know the man who had obviously abused her had killed before?
“In her letters …” Cameron let out a shaky breath. “Genny mentioned cutting herself. I wanted to make you aware of that.”
Valerie pursed her lips. “She told us everything she put in the letters, but she’s not harming herself. There aren’t any signs and she’s adamant about that. I think she said that for effect.”
“What are you doing in here?”
We whirled at the voice and before me was the wee girl from the photos, except she was older and taller. And her eyes were this strange mix of young and old. Vulnerable and bitter. Like she’d seen more of the worst of life than an eighty-year-old.
Discomfort at having been caught, at facing the person who’d threatened us, to find out it was a vulnerable child my father had abused, made me shift on my feet.
Genny’s lips parted as recognition flooded her face. She whirled on Valerie. “You called him!”
Valerie’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh, you two should leave.”
I automatically reached for Cameron’s hand, readying to get out of there, not wishing to bring more harm to this wee girl.
But as I hurried with Cameron toward the door, we heard, “Wait!”
We halted, turning back to Genny. Her lips trembled; her cheeks flushed red as she crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “I’m sorry.” She bit out the words like they’d been dragged reluctantly from her.
“Why?” Cameron asked softly.
I squeezed her hand, not wanting to keep this situation going if it meant upsetting Genny.
“Please, just leave or I’ll have you escorted off the premises.” Valerie shooed us.
“No.” Genny shook her head, stepping toward us. “Wait. I … Look, I knew sending the letters was wrong, awright? I did it tae freak you out but … like …” She gestured wildly to the photos on her wall. “You were just, like, photos. I didnae really think about you as real people. I just …”
