now, I'm sure he's tossed my number in the trash right where it belongs.
I pound out a quick reply only because I know Bennett will just keep trying if I don't.
"This could've all been avoided if you'd just done the right thing from the beginning..."
Light eyes flash across my mind, wide with horror and I think he reaches for me—I've never been able to figure out why. He says my name and his eyes dart around frantically as he yells for help, but he doesn't get very far. Three cops materialize out of thin air and haul him away, slapping handcuffs around his wrists as I writhe on the ground, my blood splattered around me, numb with agony.
My memory is still hazy at best, but I do remember seeing a phone in Sean Callahan's hand before they shoved him away from me.
I can't make sense of it. How did he get there so quickly? Why was he in Philly? And the dark eyes I remember seeing right before that tire iron slammed into my knee...where did they go?
"You know what you're going to do, Raena?" my dad hovers above my hospital bed and peers down at me with raised eyebrows. "You're going to tell the truth."
My entire body feels like it's on fire and somewhere, I think I hear my sister crying softly in the background for me. A hand squeezes mine and I have to blink a few times before the cloudiness clears. My eyes find the window first, where Bennett paces in the hallway. Lucy smiles weakly at me and squeezes my hand one more time before she looks to our dad again.
Sand coats my throat. These stupid pain meds just make me feel like I'm sitting three feet away, watching this scene play out, and there's nothing I can do to take control of my body because I can't move.
"But—"
"You saw Sean Callahan," my dad cuts in, this time a little more forcefully than before. "That's it."
My sister leans forward and squeezes my hand again. "Dad, I thought she already told the cops that—"
"It doesn't matter. Sean Callahan was found on the scene right next to you. He could've killed you—why else would he be anywhere near you if it wasn't to hurt you? After what you've just been through, I understand why you're confused. I really do. But there was no trace of anyone else on that scene except you and Sean Callahan. There's no other possibility or explanation, sweetheart."
For the first time in my life, my dad looks at me with just a little bit of tenderness, a little bit of worry. He's right. He has to be right. Nothing else makes sense, at least not now. And he cares, doesn't he? He's genuinely upset that something so terrible has happened to me, that my attacker could've done worse, that I'm lucky to even be alive, and that's when my memory begins to blur.
"When the detectives come back in here, you're going to tell the truth. Aren't you, Raena?"
I take a deep breath and nod.
And in the end, his definition of truth consists of whatever story gets him what he wants.
I'm so sick of this...so sick of letting my dad dictate and demonize at every turn. Manipulating me into doing exactly what he wants. What have I been hanging onto this whole time? Some misplaced sense of loyalty that's never returned? Some false, pathetic hope that this time or maybe next time, things will finally change between us? If telling those detectives exactly what he wanted me to that day wasn't enough, than nothing ever will be.
There's no point in trying to live up to expectations that never even really existed. I'm just a tiny blip on his radar. A smudge on his shoe that needs cleaning. A task he can easily delegate to someone else.
But maybe my dad's right. Maybe it's time I finally start telling the truth.
Because I'm 99.9 percent sure that Sean Callahan has only been in prison these last seven years because I listened to my dad instead of my gut.
There's no amount of rationalizing that can make that particular truth go away. Or the fact that my dad used his high-reaching connections to ensure Sean received the maximum sentence for assault with a
I pound out a quick reply only because I know Bennett will just keep trying if I don't.
"This could've all been avoided if you'd just done the right thing from the beginning..."
Light eyes flash across my mind, wide with horror and I think he reaches for me—I've never been able to figure out why. He says my name and his eyes dart around frantically as he yells for help, but he doesn't get very far. Three cops materialize out of thin air and haul him away, slapping handcuffs around his wrists as I writhe on the ground, my blood splattered around me, numb with agony.
My memory is still hazy at best, but I do remember seeing a phone in Sean Callahan's hand before they shoved him away from me.
I can't make sense of it. How did he get there so quickly? Why was he in Philly? And the dark eyes I remember seeing right before that tire iron slammed into my knee...where did they go?
"You know what you're going to do, Raena?" my dad hovers above my hospital bed and peers down at me with raised eyebrows. "You're going to tell the truth."
My entire body feels like it's on fire and somewhere, I think I hear my sister crying softly in the background for me. A hand squeezes mine and I have to blink a few times before the cloudiness clears. My eyes find the window first, where Bennett paces in the hallway. Lucy smiles weakly at me and squeezes my hand one more time before she looks to our dad again.
Sand coats my throat. These stupid pain meds just make me feel like I'm sitting three feet away, watching this scene play out, and there's nothing I can do to take control of my body because I can't move.
"But—"
"You saw Sean Callahan," my dad cuts in, this time a little more forcefully than before. "That's it."
My sister leans forward and squeezes my hand again. "Dad, I thought she already told the cops that—"
"It doesn't matter. Sean Callahan was found on the scene right next to you. He could've killed you—why else would he be anywhere near you if it wasn't to hurt you? After what you've just been through, I understand why you're confused. I really do. But there was no trace of anyone else on that scene except you and Sean Callahan. There's no other possibility or explanation, sweetheart."
For the first time in my life, my dad looks at me with just a little bit of tenderness, a little bit of worry. He's right. He has to be right. Nothing else makes sense, at least not now. And he cares, doesn't he? He's genuinely upset that something so terrible has happened to me, that my attacker could've done worse, that I'm lucky to even be alive, and that's when my memory begins to blur.
"When the detectives come back in here, you're going to tell the truth. Aren't you, Raena?"
I take a deep breath and nod.
And in the end, his definition of truth consists of whatever story gets him what he wants.
I'm so sick of this...so sick of letting my dad dictate and demonize at every turn. Manipulating me into doing exactly what he wants. What have I been hanging onto this whole time? Some misplaced sense of loyalty that's never returned? Some false, pathetic hope that this time or maybe next time, things will finally change between us? If telling those detectives exactly what he wanted me to that day wasn't enough, than nothing ever will be.
There's no point in trying to live up to expectations that never even really existed. I'm just a tiny blip on his radar. A smudge on his shoe that needs cleaning. A task he can easily delegate to someone else.
But maybe my dad's right. Maybe it's time I finally start telling the truth.
Because I'm 99.9 percent sure that Sean Callahan has only been in prison these last seven years because I listened to my dad instead of my gut.
There's no amount of rationalizing that can make that particular truth go away. Or the fact that my dad used his high-reaching connections to ensure Sean received the maximum sentence for assault with a
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