Don't Make a Sound (Sawyer Brooks #1)(65)

She inhaled. She was no longer that little girl. She was older and wiser and stronger. She would leave River Rock. This house, this place, these people would not win. She would tell the truth and break free of this place once and for all. The whole town was covering up, keeping secrets. Chief Schneider might not be the good guy she thought he was. His sister was married to Jonathan Lane. Nobody seemed surprised about there being a relationship between the math teacher and his young student. The mention of rape fantasy parties hardly made the chief flinch.

Inside a small porcelain bowl within an open rolltop desk was an old skeleton key. She picked it up, examined it closer, and felt compelled, driven by curiosity, to see if it would unlock the door to Dad’s office. With the skeleton key in hand, she moved through the darkened hallway quietly, as if her parents were asleep in the other room.

Click.

The door opened. She walked inside the forbidden room. The vintage mahogany desk sat front and center. An antique leather chair was tucked in close on the other side. Floor-to-ceiling shelves took up the wall to the right. To the left was a fireplace set in brick.

She was twenty-nine years old, and yet she’d only been inside the room one other time. The space felt small and insignificant compared with her memories of it. She’d always imagined this secretive room where her dad spent much of his time being majestic. Magical. But it was just a room with a fireplace and a small window, curtains drawn. A Persian rug covered much of the old wood floors.

She went to the desk, brushed her fingers over the wood, trying to get a sense of a man she really didn’t know. There was a calendar, a stack of books, a notepad and pen, and a hand-carved wooden in-box filled with mail. Close to the bottom, sticking halfway out, was an envelope that she pulled free. “Dennis” was written in long, cursive letters that looked like Harper’s handwriting. She opened the envelope and pulled out a handwritten letter.

Why would Harper write Dad a letter?

There was no date in the margin or at the top of the letter, but the postmark on the envelope showed that it was sent days after Harper and Aria had disappeared.

Confused, she began to read:

To the man who gave me life,

I will never refer to you as my father or Dad. Never. Not after all the suffering you’ve caused me. I hate you. I cringe when I think of you kissing and fondling me. The smell of your sour breath on my face makes me gag to think of it.

Each night that you snuck into my room, I wanted to kill you. Did you know that I used to keep a sharp knife under my pillow? As you plunged yourself into me, I wanted to plunge the sharp end of the blade into you.

But I couldn’t do it.

I was a coward.

The only reason I didn’t kill myself was because I was afraid you would move on to Aria and then Sawyer.

My self-worth was reduced to nothing because of you. I can’t sleep through the night without worrying you will creep into my room and rape me all over again.

You may have ruined me, but you did not destroy me.

If your wife reads this, I hope she knows she is just as much to blame. I once saw her peeking through the door. She didn’t want your filthy hands on her, so she let you have your way with me, your sweet, precious firstborn.

The last time you came into my bedroom, you cried and told me you wanted to stop. I am writing today to remind you that we had a deal. I expect you to keep your promise.

Sawyer is too young to understand; otherwise she would be here with me now. She doesn’t know that you bleed darkness. If you ever touch her, I will kill you.

—Harper

Sawyer used her forearm to wipe tears from her face. Her knees wobbled, and her chest ached.

Harper.

Dad was no better than his brother—two immoral, obscene brothers. But Harper had suffered the abuse by her own father, in her own house, night after night?

Poor Harper. All the signs of abuse were there. It broke her heart to think of Harper suffering for so long. She thought of the picture she’d seen at Uncle Theo’s house. Harper standing straight and tall, so heroic, so sad.

The image of Mom peeking in . . . watching her daughter’s abuse and doing nothing about it, made Sawyer’s stomach clench. The room began to spin. Her chest tightened. This was truly a house of horrors. Sadness quickly boiled over into anger, dripping through her veins and making every muscle quiver.

Harper and Dad had a deal? What did Harper mean by that?

The wood floor in the hallway creaked. Sawyer ran toward the window, unlatched it, then—

“What are you doing in here?”

Sawyer whipped around. The letter was still in her hand.

Mom stood in the doorway, looking affronted.

Sawyer felt as if she were seeing her mom stripped down to the bone without any blinders on for the first time.

Harper was right.

Mom was no better than the two brothers she protected. “Dad raped Harper, his own daughter,” Sawyer said in a steady voice. “Over and over again while you were telling me that my sister was out of control and a slut. You knew the truth, and you did nothing.”

Mom pointed a shaky finger toward the exit. “Get out of my house.”

“You,” Sawyer said flatly, “are going down. So say goodbye to your little cozy life.”

Dad appeared from behind Mom. He scooted her inside so he could enter his office and see what was going on.

Sawyer pointed at him. “I’m going to the police.” She tucked the letter into her back pocket. “I’m going to tell Chief Schneider everything. If he refuses to do anything about it, it won’t matter because I’m going to rip the cloud of secrecy off this town like a kid opening a fucking Christmas present.”