Page 94 of The Lies Always Told

Her lips press together. Guilt sits heavy in her eyes, and I know she doesn’t believe me.

“The kid you talked to—Cody?” I continue. “He seemed fine. You did the best you could with the information you had.” I hesitate for a second then push forward. “It’s not your fault.”

Her shoulders stiffen, but she doesn’t argue. Not yet.

“Who sent you that letter?” I ask.

Her head snaps up. “What letter?”

I don’t miss the way her breath catches, the way her fingers tighten around the edge of her sleeve. She wasn’t expecting that. I might not get another chance to bring it up.

“You know what letter,” I say quietly.

She swallows hard. “Cody.”

“He got pulled from his home,” she continues. “Sent out of state to live with his grandparents. He must have slipped it through the door in my office. When I went to talk to the principal and he told me everything, I found it in there. His parents are under investigation, and his brother…” She exhales shakily. “He’ll probably get sentenced after his trial. Cody is twelve.Twelve. And his whole world just collapsed. It’s a lot,” she murmurs.

“He’s angry,” I say. Suddenly, I get it. The letter. The blame. The sharp edges in her voice when she said she should have known. He’s not just angry. He’s heartbroken. He’s terrified. And he’s got nowhere to put it.

“You can’t let this haunt you,” I tell her. “He’s a kid. You said it yourself. He’s lashing out because he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s not your fault, and he doesn’t mean it.”

Her eyes flick to mine. “How do you know?”

I exhale, leaning back. “Because, for different reasons, I lashed out just like he did.”

She doesn’t move, but I feel her listening.

“I didn’t understand what was happening to me. I blamed my parents for giving me genetic and hereditary conditions, like it was something they did on purpose. And my dad, well, he was controlling. He was always pushing for us to do the most, even when my body struggled. I felt like I was never enough. I mean, I always did, but in that moment, it was worse. If I’m being honest, my dad’s still that way. I just don’t care anymore.” I let out a short, humorless laugh. “I didn’t mean it, but I was hormonal, and sad, and afraid, and—yeah, angry. Angry at how unfair everything was. Angry I had to deal with it at all. I bet Cody feels the same way.”

I shake my head. “You’re just an easy target. You are who Manny was to me. Manny was there to be my punching bag when I needed it. You are that for Cody.”

“Why?” Her voice is small.

“Because you care.” I let that sit between us for a second. “Because the two people who were supposed to protect him didn’t. Because he trusted you, and now, his brain is playing tricks on him. Because he’s scared, and he doesn’t know how to say it, but he knows you won’t hurt him. No matter what he says, he knows you won’t harm him.” I hold her gaze. “You did your job. It had a terrible outcome, but, Nellie—it’s not your fault. You did everything right, and the outcome still sucks, but that’s life. You can’t live with the what-ifs forever.You did everything you could do with the information you had.”

“And someone still died.”

“Someone died. I’m sorry for that. I’m so terribly sorry, but it was an accident. A terrible accident. It’s not your fault.”

Her lips part, but no words come. I see it, though. The way her shoulders sag just a little, like maybe, just maybe, she’s starting to believe me.

“He’ll hate me forever. I told the police what he said, and that led them to look into it deeper. Cody’s not in trouble, but his parents are. He won’t ever forgive me.”

“And while that might be true, you need to forgive yourself. You did everything you were supposed to do, as hard as it is. Maybe let him blame you. He’ll hopefully get help, and he’ll eventually see the bigger picture, but in the meantime, let him hate the one person who won’t hate him back. Be that person for him, even if from afar. Sometimes, there are lies worth letting become truth, in order to protect our hearts. Protecthis, baby girl.”

“That’s a fucked up way to put it.”

“Maybe, but am I wrong?” She shakes her head and closes her eyes as he lets it all sink in. She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t say anything else. She just waits. I hold her hand and trace small circles on her wrist, on the spot where she once felt it was her only way out. I keep doing it so I can remind her she never has to go through things by herself again. I remind her with every touch how I will always be here for her, how I will always help her find a way.

“And when he’s ready…be here for him, and you can talk. Even if that is in a year, or two, or ten. Maybe never, but at least he’ll know he has you. When everyone else is a song, you can skip, be his eight-track, steady and consistent. Be his soundtrack.”

I’m lost in thought, touching her skin, looking at her. Ialmost miss her talking. “His shore. When everyone is a wave, I can be his shore.” I nod, and she smiles.

She shakes her head. “I’m so lightheaded and my head feels heavy at the same time.”

I chuckle and say, “Yeah, you have a hell of a hangover, and you need to eat. Come on. I have food for you.”

THIRTY-ONE

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