Lovely Girls(28)

“Please don’t repeat this, but when the girls were born, we made a pact,” Emma finally said.

“What kind of a pact?”

“That our daughters wouldn’t grow up to be victims. That they would grow up to be strong and confident women. But sometimes Genevieve takes it too far.”

“No one wants their child to be a victim,” I pointed out.

“Of course not. But Genevieve had a rough childhood. She had an awkward adolescence. Braces, glasses, baby fat. Kids picked on her. And she swore that her kids would never experience what she went through.”

“We all want to protect our kids,” I said pointedly.

“I know, but I think Genevieve took it to the other extreme. I love Daphne, but . . .” Emma sighed. “She does have a mean side. For one thing, she’s incredibly competitive. It’s what makes her such a good tennis player and why she does so well in school. She always has to be the best. Always. In everything. Which means that no one else can be.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It can’t be easy having Genevieve as a mother.” Emma held up her hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Genevieve too. But she puts a lot of pressure on Daphne and Jon. It’s not enough that they’re healthy, normal kids. They have to be gifted—academically, athletically, everything. They have to be exceptional in every way.”

“That doesn’t excuse Daphne being unkind to Alex.”

“No, I’m not saying it does. But if she did—and right now we don’t know that she was involved—it wouldn’t be the first time she’s acted out.”

“Something like this?”

“Well, not exactly.” Emma shook her head. “Let me give you an example. When the girls were twelve, Daphne planned a sleepover party. She invited a bunch of girls over, but purposely excluded Shae. Shae was devastated. She cried for three straight days before she finally broke down and told me what happened.”

As we descended the bridge, the sidewalk slanted steeply. Another pair of walkers, also women, approached us, climbing upward. Emma and I moved to the side so they could pass.

“Thank you!” one of the ladies said.

“No problem.” Emma smiled at them. Once they’d passed, she said, “Where was I?”

“Shae was upset about not being invited to Daphne’s slumber party.”

“Right. Well, at the time, the girls were taking dance classes together. Shae loved them, and she was a good dancer. In fact, she was the best in her class. That doesn’t happen very often for Shae. She’s rarely the best at anything. But she was at dancing. She was better than Daphne. Better than all the other girls. When it came time for the instructor to cast the spring recital, she picked Shae to be the lead. And Daphne was so angry, she cut Shae dead. She wouldn’t speak to Shae, and then she got the other girls to snub her too. I think Daphne planned the sleepover just so she could exclude Shae.”

“That’s terrible,” I said. “What did you do?”

“I told Genevieve what was going on, and she spoke to Daphne. She made her apologize to Shae and invite her to the sleepover. Shae went, and she had a ball. But . . .” Emma stopped and shook her head.

“What?”

“Shae quit dance classes that same week. She absolutely refused to go back.”

“She wasn’t the lead at the recital?”

“Nope. And even though Shae denied it, and I certainly can’t prove it, I always thought that Daphne somehow made her do that. As in, if you give up dancing, I’ll be your friend again. I tried to get Shae to go back to the dance school, but she flat-out refused. I even tried to talk her into making other friends so that Daphne wouldn’t have quite so much power over her. But Shae wouldn’t listen to me.”

We walked in silence for a few moments while I absorbed Emma’s story. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard of girls that age being cruel. I had personally experienced it back when I was in middle school. But there was an extra layer of manipulation to this that somehow made it worse. If twelve-year-old Daphne could force her best friend to give up the dance classes she loved, what was seventeen-year-old Daphne capable of?

“Why would she want to hurt Alex? She barely knows her,” I finally said.

Emma shrugged helplessly. I could tell that my pressing was making her uncomfortable, so I tried to explain.

“I don’t mean to put you on the spot,” I said. “But the last year has been traumatic for Alex. For both of us. I moved her across the country, hoping it would give her a fresh start. For this to happen now, here . . . it’s awful. I need to find out who’s responsible.”

“I get where you’re coming from, but, Kate—” Emma stopped abruptly and put her hand on my arm. “Please be careful.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“If Daphne was behind this, confronting her about it might make things worse for Alex.”

“How can it get worse?”

When Emma looked at me, her eyes were unreadable behind the mirrored sunglasses. “That’s just it. Things can always get worse.”





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN




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VIDEO DIARY OF ALEX TURNER