Put Me Back Together(95)

“Mom!” I cried. Five seconds. After meeting someone for the first time, my mother always gave them at least five full seconds before pouncing. She was considerate that way. “What are you talking about? That doesn’t even make sense.”

Lucas went very still as I looked to my father for help. Not that he was ever any help when my mother was concerned. He shrugged and pointed at her, as if to say, What can I do?

“She has every right to ask,” Lucas said to me. “I was taking an exam when Katie was attacked. I’ll never forgive myself for not being there.”

“This isn’t your fault. Not even a little. Not in any way,” I protested. “It’s not your responsibility to keep me safe.”

“Yes it is!” Lucas said loudly enough to make us all stare. “That’s what it means to love someone. You keep them safe. You take care of them. Always.”

I could see my mother’s raised eyebrows at his use of the word “love,” and then I saw her gaze moving over to me.

“Well, I won’t have it,” I said. “I’m not going to let Brandon Tomko hurt anyone else that I care about. I’m not going to let him take anyone else away from me.”

“Who’s he taken from you, darling?” my mother asked.

“Tommy,” my father answered.

“Yeah, Tommy,” I said, “and, in a way, he took me, too.” Their puzzled looks said it all. The time had come to fill in the blanks. I was ready to put my days of lying behind me. I was ready to tell. “There’s something I need to tell you guys, something I should have told you a long time ago. It’s big.”

“How big?” Emily said.

So big I don’t know how to start. So big I’m afraid it will change everything. So big I can’t hold it in anymore.

“Six years big,” I answered.

Lucas and I sat down at the table with Mom, and then Dad and Emily joined us. It was nice to see all the people I loved in one place like that. Too bad it had to happen now, right before I gave them the news that would tear us apart.

I was glad to have told the same story to Lucas just a few days before, to have those words to guide me, because without them I would have been lost. I started again with Ricky and Tommy and the babysitting job I wished I’d never had, then went on from there. I was proudest of the fact that I didn’t cry when I came to the moment when I found Tommy’s mangled body—probably because I’d cried so much the night before—though the looks on my parents’ faces almost pushed me over the edge. Then came the trial and my many, many lies, and the fallout that took me through high school. My mother kept flinching as I described my terrible depression. My father held his head in his hands.

I watched their horror grow when I began to describe Brandon’s harassment during the lead-up to his release. Only when I explained it did I realize I’d never found out from him who had made that first post and sent all those texts. I decided then and there to let that mystery die. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, searching for Brandon’s accomplices.

Once I reached the events of the night before, my father was weeping. Even Lucas had closed his eyes. Only my mother was still staring at me, following every word. But there were no more words. I’d said it all.

I took a few deep breaths, staring through the glass tabletop at my feet, before meeting their eyes. Under the table, Lucas put his hand on my leg and squeezed.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dad said, his eyes bloodshot. In his tone I heard a combination of despair and outrage, as though he wanted to scream at me but didn’t have the heart. “Didn’t you trust me? I could’ve… I would’ve…” He trailed off, his thoughts caught up in all the things he could have and would have done, if he’d known.

“I was afraid,” I said. A tear rolled down my cheek. “I couldn’t face it. I was only thirteen. I thought I was to blame because I’d said all those terrible things about Ricky. Even if Brandon killed the wrong boy, it still felt as though it was my fault. And then once I’d told all those lies—”

“But it wasn’t your fault,” my mother said forcefully, cutting me off. “No, you were just a girl. I was the mother. I should have seen the truth…”


“No, Mom, don’t—” I implored, but there was no stopping her now.

“I knew,” she said, nodding her head. “I knew something was the matter. You changed so suddenly and you had this look in your eyes all the time. A mother knows.” She was wringing her hands. “I didn’t want to see it. I wanted you to be stronger than it, to beat it. But you were just a girl and I should have been there for you. To think of what you went through while I was off in court, fighting for other people’s daughters. I should have been fighting for you!” My father was talking to her in low tones, trying to reason with her, but she was beyond reason now. “No, you told me,” she said to my father. “You saw it, too. But Dr. Lepore…he was nothing. We should have taken her to the best therapist in the city. We should have tried harder. I should have made her tell me!”

She began to weep. My steadfast, indomitable mother who never cried, ever. I’d broken her.

“I’m sorry, darling,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry!”