Lovely Girls(40)

“You.” Genevieve spat the word out at me. “I can’t believe you’d show your face here after what your daughter did.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, stunned at the strength of her vitriol.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“It’s just a game. The whole point is for the kids to learn teamwork and get some exercise and have fun,” I said, my anger quickly returning. “I don’t know why everyone’s so upset that my daughter finally got a chance to play.”

“I’m not talking about tennis. Although, yes, it’s ridiculous that Coach took Daphne off the lineup. He’ll be hearing from me about that.”

“Then why are you upset?”

Genevieve raised one eyebrow. “You don’t know what your daughter has been up to?”

I could sense Ingrid and Emma behind me, even before Emma spoke. “What’s going on, Genevieve? No one’s heard from you all day. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been at the school, reporting this woman’s daughter for bullying,” Genevieve said, pointing at me.

“What?” It didn’t make any sense. Alex had never bullied anyone.

“Your daughter has been sending anonymous texts to Daphne. Calling her a whore and a slut. Accusing her of sleeping around. Disgusting, mean texts.”

“If the texts are anonymous, why do you think Alex is the one who sent them?” I asked.

“Because it’s not the first time she’s targeted Daphne. Last week, your daughter falsely accused Daphne of breaking her phone.”

“Why would she do that?” I asked, remembering Alex’s supposedly hypothetical question when I asked her what had happened to her phone. What if I told you that Daphne Hudson stomped on it? Would you believe me?

But of course it hadn’t been hypothetical. I had known that at the time, but I hadn’t made Alex tell me every detail. I hadn’t wanted to push her. Maybe I should have.

“I have no idea. Probably because she’s emotionally unstable,” Genevieve said.

I stared at her, feeling my cheeks growing hot and my nails digging into the soft flesh of my palms. “What exactly are you insinuating?” I asked, my voice cold but steady.

“I’m not insinuating anything. Everyone knows there’s something wrong with that girl.”

“There is nothing wrong with my daughter,” I said, the words thick in my throat.

“Save it, Kate. I read the news article about your husband’s death. I know Alex was driving the car that day. That she killed her father. Your daughter is clearly disturbed, and now she’s targeting Daphne.”

Every word, every single word that fell out of Genevieve’s mouth, felt like a razor blade cutting into my skin. I couldn’t stand there for one minute longer, listening to her poison.

“I’m leaving.” I stepped out the door. Genevieve didn’t move, so my arm brushed ever so slightly against hers as I passed by.

“Don’t push me!” she said.

I turned to look at her standing there on the doorstep, her body rigid with righteous indignation. And behind her, Ingrid and Emma stood in the doorway, neither of them offering up a single word of defense for me. Instead, the three of them were closing ranks. Just as they’d done to Taylor. Just as they probably always did.

I turned and strode toward my car, willing myself not to cry. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

“What’s going on with Daphne?” I heard Emma ask Genevieve. “Did you say she’s getting anonymous texts?”

“Kate’s daughter sent them,” Genevieve said loud enough for me to hear. I paused, then opened my car door, but before I could slide inside, close the door, and silence her voice, Genevieve continued, her voice loud and carrying. “There’s something seriously wrong with that girl. I think she might be a sociopath. But she’s not going to get away with it. I’m going to put a stop to it.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR




* * *





KATE

I drove straight to the high school to pick up Alex from tennis team practice. At the traffic light, I noticed that my hands were shaking. I flexed them and then gripped the steering wheel, trying to calm myself.

Genevieve was targeting Alex. My sad, fragile daughter who had already been through so much. And she was going to use Ed’s death as her weapon. Rage flooded through me.

How dare she, I thought. And in that moment, another thought came. One that I couldn’t stop. An image of Genevieve suffering a terrible pain. Something so awful, her life would tip upside down, never to be righted. And not just Genevieve. Ingrid and Emma too. Their lives were so easy, so blessed. It was why they could afford to be so casual in their cruelness. It never washed back on them.

I wanted all of them to suffer like Alex had suffered.

“Stop it,” I said, looking at myself in the rearview mirror. “Just stop it.”

Hadn’t I learned my lesson? This was why I went through life in such a lonely state. I thought terrible things. And then those terrible things came true.

And just like that, I was flooded yet again with memories of the last time it had happened.

It had been a beautiful, crisp autumn day. I’d closed up the store at six, and after turning the key in the lock, I stopped to tip my face up to enjoy the cool snap in the air. I returned home, surprised to find the house was empty. Ed had taken Alex to the courts to practice, but I thought they’d be finished by then. I started chopping vegetables to make soup and wondered whether Ed and I would finally tell Alex about the divorce over dinner. I had told him that morning that I’d hired an attorney. He’d been angrier than I thought he would be, and I was starting to realize that my original plan—that we would continue to live in the same house together until one of us found somewhere else to live—might not work after all.