Page 55 of Conquered Obstacles

I told them I would meet them immediately and bring breakfast, worried something big was going on and that was my anxiety the night before. They were waiting for me when I pulled up, and I hurried them inside, setting everything out for them and then giving them a look to spill.

Except no one knew where to start and they were scared.

“Has someone hurt you?” I asked gently.

“No, but I’m worried they will,” Megan blurted, gesturing to Grace and Emily. “And my mom believes me, but he’s not my guidance counselor, so she can’t really get involved and maybe make things worse for all of us. But now something else happened and—we didn’t know what other adult to come to.”

I nodded, glancing from Grace to Emily. “And you both have talked to your parents?” They seemed hesitant to bad-mouth their parents to another adult. “Tell me how it started.”

“He’s super fucking creepy,” Grace blurted. “Like super creepy, Arabella. Like makes my skin crawl and I want to be anywhere else besides in the office with him alone. I asked for the door to be left open when I have to meet with him, and he likes that I’m uncomfortable like that. I saw it in his eyes like…” She swallowed loudly.

“So he’s the guidance counselor for certain juniors?” I checked, wondering how he wasn’t Megan’s.

“The AP students and ones that need the most attention,” Emily mumbled. “Something—I think he did something to my friend on student council. She’s changed. I didn’t get it. She said her parents got divorced and with college—it made sense. Except I just saw her before the holiday with both of her parents. They didn’t get divorced.”

“Okay, or—what led you to it being this counselor?”

“You don’t believe us?” she demanded. “You of all people?”

I gave her a stern look. “I believe you enough to take this monster out on Isiah’s boat and shove him in the ocean so he never touches you. I would do it gleefully, but I should ask these questions and get the whole story, right? You would want that if someone brought accusations against me? Like some have?”

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, trying to choke down a sob. “My parents said I was making leaps and being sensitive because I wasn’t Harvard or Ivy League material and already cracking. I’m not cracking! Something is wrong, and I don’t want to be raped. I don’t—he’s gross, and I don’t want…”

“To be hurt like I was.” I moved over to the sofa she was on and hugged her. “I know. I know, love.” My heart broke as she broke down sobbing.

Megan took over while Emily let it all out. “She saw her friend react when Mr. Fuller bumped into them in the hallway by the student council office. She started shaking and looked like she might piss herself. That was two weeks ago. She thought something might have happened or maybe he threatened to pull his recommendation after she got in.”

“But then you learned her parents really didn’t divorce and put the pieces together that he is the reason she changed,” I surmised, sighing when Emily nodded. I looked at Grace. “Your dad?”

She looked away from my gaze and focused on her hands. “He totally brushed me off, said I couldn’t be some wilting flower who is mean to men because of vibes I get. That he’s not touched me or said anything outright. I think complimenting a teenager’s looks constantly is over the line. It’s grotesque, especially when he enjoys that it makes me uncomfortable.”

I was so furious with Irene’s brother that steam practically came out of my ears. What the hell was wrong with him?

“He blamed you,” Grace rasped. “That because of the horrible incident you suffered that was real, now I’m seeing monsters everywhere and going overboard.”

“Unfortunately, your father is an idiot, and there are monsters everywhere,” I seethed. “Two out of three women say they have been sexually assaulted by the time they are in their early twenties. And the truth? The third woman has been and probably doesn’t understand that she has. A slap on the ass. A grope. A grab. All assault if it was her face, but it’s sexual.”

“We don’t know what to do, and if we make a scene about it and the school sweeps it under the rug, our college is gone,” Emily whispered. “My parents will disown me if I don’t get into a good school. I’m out on my ass, and they’ve always been clear on that. If I embarrass them, I’m not theirs.”

“First of all, I own a mansion. It has lots of rooms, and you could move in today if you needed to. So I don’t want you to ever worry about that,” I told her firmly, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “And there is life besides Harvard or even college. I didn’t go to college and I’m rather successful. Cora didn’t either and I pay her salary, so I know she makes good money.”

“Yeah, that’s why I keep thinking maybe I don’t want college,” Megan admitted. “But I think my mom’s head would explode because she sees it as a better life than hers. She says being an assistant blows and to be the boss instead.”

“I fully understand where her head is, but she needs a different boss too,” I interjected. “We can talk later because culinary school with the connections you have now is better if you have talent. Si-Woo is proof of that too.” I winked at her so she knew I wasn’t brushing her off and we could have a real discussion later.

“I’m sorry we bothered you, but we didn’t know what else to do,” Grace whispered. “I thought we should talk to my Aunt Irene, but she’s…” She gave me puppy dog eyes to understand.

“You did the right thing. Your aunt is—it’s almost a year since she lost your uncle and she’s struggling. Getting her own place and away from—she’s struggling, but there’s hope. I’m still going to pull her in because she is the mom figure you have, and she can beat your dad’s ass as he deserves.”

“What do we even do? How do we—” Emily asked, breaking down crying again.

“He’s touched her hair a few times, and he’s worse with her than me,” Grace explained. “I think if he’s touched my hair, my dad would jump in and really hear me, but…” She shrugged.

“I will handle it, love,” I promised Emily as I hugged her back to me. I kissed her hair and soothed her a bit with my power. I kept petting her hair as if I could take away the memory of that disgusting man touching her. “I will figure something out and handle it. First of all, you will record anything—”

“He makes us put our phones on his desk when we come into his office,” Grace told me. She nodded when rage filled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s not sus or anything. I told my dad that was a red flag, and he said it sounded like a man tired of the antics of teenagers. Maybe, but why face-up to see we’re not recording? That’s sus.”

“I will get something actionable today and until then, I will get you second phones in case you have to meet with him so you can record it.” I kissed Emily’s hair again. “Do you think your friend will go on the record?”

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