Page 53 of Rot

Aunt Maggie said nothing else until we were in her car, driving away, “I’m sorry your mother couldn’t come. She’s…” She stopped herself from saying anything more, though she didn’t have to. I knew what my mother was.

“She’s drinking again,” I whispered sadly.

She let out an explosive sigh. “Yes. It’s why she couldn’t drive here.” She reached a hand over the center console, gripping mine tightly. “Are you all right, Sloane? What happened? How did… why didn’t Elias drive you home?”

I didn’t doubt Elias told his mother nothing about last weekend, so I took it upon myself to. “He left. He saw Jordan Vito trying to talk to me. They, uh… kind of got into it last weekend.” I fidgeted a bit; all for the show. “I think he got upset at me, so he left.”

“Oh, that boy,” Aunt Maggie whispered, shaking her head once at her son and his actions.

“Jordan offered to take me home. I didn’t know what else to do, so I went with him.” I paused, biting the inside of my cheek. Aunt Maggie released my hand so she could make a left turn, and I went on, “But he didn’t drive me home. He brought me to the woods, and he…”

“Oh, no. No, honey. He tried to rape you?”

“He got physical. I didn’t stop to think I could really hurt him. I was just focused on trying to stop him. Somehow I managed to push him off me and he… he stumbled back.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “It was a terrible accident. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“You were acting in self-defense,” Aunt Maggie told me, which was exactly what the policewoman had said, too. “You weren’t trying to harm him. You were only trying to protect yourself—that’s the most important part. You never set out to hurt him. He did that to himself. I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Me, too,” I muttered, even though I wasn’t. This was exactly what I wanted.

Aunt Maggie drove us home. By the time she pulled into the garage and parked her car, the sky had already turned orange with the impending sunset. “Why don’t you shower and take it easy? I’ll talk to your mom and yell at Elias for leaving you. Is there anything special you want for dinner? Whatever it is, I’ll make it.”

I got out of the car, following her to the side door. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not really hungry.”

“Well, you have to eat something, honey.” She sounded sincere, like she genuinely cared about my well-being, something I’d never gotten from my actual mother or the grandparents who’d raised me.

It made me wonder if I had Aunt Maggie as my mother instead, if I’d still be who I was. Would I be as fucked up, or would I be normal? I’d never get an answer to that question, so it was a pointless thought.

The police had given me my backpack back; it was a pretty cut and dry case. I was just a girl who’d protected herself, while Jordan would forever be remembered as a monster.

No, it wasn’t fair, but neither was life. I’d learned that young.

I went upstairs, threw my bag in my room, and went to the bathroom to shower, to rinse off the stink Jordan had left on me. Elias’s bedroom door was closed, but once he knew what happened, I didn’t doubt he’d come to me, whether it was right after his mother spoke with him or later tonight, after the cover of darkness.

The water did its best to wash away all of my sins. As the hot water pelted my head, I looked down at my hands. Not a fleck of blood on them, and yet I could easily imagine the skin coated in bright red.

Blood was such a garish, bright hue when it was fresh. So ridiculously messy, but beautifully so. There was nothing else in this world like it. I took great pleasure in spilling it, even more twisted glee in getting away with it.

How many did Jordan make? Four?

I stayed in the shower for a while, and when I got out and dried myself off, I overheard Aunt Maggie talking to Elias in his room. When I walked to my room, I saw his door was cracked, and I could hear Aunt Maggie’s voice loud and clear: “You should never have left her there, Elias. What were you thinking?” It was the strongest tone I’d ever heard her take with him, but I approved of it.

It was his fault. It was all his fault.

I went to my room and got in bed, acting all sad and mopey. My mother didn’t come up and see me, not that I anticipated her presence. She would either drink herself into oblivion because she knew the truth of what happened between Jordan and I or she’d be more vehement in leaving this place, trying to the best of her abilities to plan our escape.

Whatever. My mother was a fool if she thought I’d let us leave now.

When dinner time rolled around, I told Aunt Maggie I wasn’t hungry, that I wanted to stay in bed. She nodded in agreement, but in the end, she brought up a plate for me, setting it on my nightstand, along with a fork and a bottle of water.

Hey, I had to act like I was torn up about it, otherwise someone might start to think Sloane Karnagy was a psychopath, and we wouldn’t want that.

It was almost nine o’clock at night when my mother came to visit me. Turned out, she didn’t have much to say. Her yellow hair was pulled back in a messy, greasy bun, and her green eyes seemed tired. I lay on the bed curled up against the wall, and she closed the door behind her. She took her time in walking over to me, hesitant to sit on the edge of the bed. It was as if she hated being near me.

Ditto.

“Sloane,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. I couldn’t tell if it was because she’d been drinking or if she’d been crying. She did a lot of both these days; one reason why it was easier to pretend she didn’t exist.

“What?” I asked, not moving, staring at the wall. It was a better place to look than my mother’s face.

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