Page 86 of Someday

SOFIE

I barely slept last night, thinking of all the secrets in this house.

The torment my dad inflicted.

The hypocrisy of appearing to be a perfect family on the outside but living a nightmare inside these walls.

I need to be done with this place.

Once and for all.

As soon as we get inside the house and I look up at the stairs, my bravado slides right off of me. But instead of bypassing them and moving to safer rooms like I have since I’ve been home, I march right up them with Theo and Fred on my heels.

I make it to the top and take a deep breath.

I can do this. I’m doing it. And I’m fine.

The thought that I’m fine is barely crossing my brain when I’m jolted with a flashback.

The smell of a freshly baked pie. Apples and crust on the floor of the kitchen, the pie plate shattered nearby. My mom crying and my dad yelling. I dropped my bag on the floor and ran up the stairs when I heard my mom scream.

“Sofie?”

I feel a hand on my back and I jump, blinking rapidly when I see Theo staring at me.

“I’m sorry. I-I’m jumpy.” My hands are shaky when I reach out to hold onto him.

“Where did you go?” he asks.

“That night,” I whisper.

My lips shake along with my hands. I barely blink and tears drip down my cheeks.

“I’m so tired of crying,” I say.

“Should we leave?” he asks.

“No.” I shake my head. “I need to do this.”

I turn and look toward their bedroom, hesitating only a second before walking forward. I open the door and try to quiet the memories threatening to knock me over. My mom’s jewelry armoire stands next to the dresser and I open it, barely registering the expensive necklaces and rings and earrings still in place, like she never left.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing, Morgan,” my dad yelled. “Every time I turn around, you’re all over Tom Fryer like the fucking slut you are.”

He had his arm over her neck, her back to his chest as he yelled at her, spit flying.

When she saw me come into the room, her eyes widened, and I knew without her saying a word that she was hoping I’d leave without him seeing me. It looked like they’d been fighting for a long time. Mascara streamed down her cheeks and her nose was running, the shirt I’d seen on her at the July Fourth parade hanging off of her shoulder. They were both sweating and the vein in my dad’s forehead bulged as he ranted.

“Tell your daughter what you’ve been doing over at that church all this time, pretending to be a good little Christian while you sleep with the pastor,” he said through gritted teeth. “Sofie, how long have you known about your mom and Pastor Fryer?”

“Nothing is going on between me and Pastor Fryer,” my mom cried. “Sofie, let us deal with this. Go to your room.”

“No, I think she should stay,” my dad said, yanking my mom’s hair so hard that she yelped.

I feel Theo’s hands on my shoulders and know I have to snap out of this. He’s saying something, but he sounds so far away. I turn around and blink and he’s in my face, pleading with me to talk to him.

I put my hands on his face, hoping it will keep me here in this moment. “I can’t stop seeing what happened.”

“What happened in here, Sofie?” His voice is calm, but his eyes are haunted.

---