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“Halley…” Tara shuffled closer, extending her arms for a hug. “I love you. You’re like a sister to me. I swore nothing would ever come between us, and I meant that. Don’t let it be this.”
I shook my head, dodging her comfort. “You’re making everything worse,” I whispered brokenly. “Why can’t you try to see it from my point of view?”
“Because he admitted it himself.” Her face twisted with grief and disappointment. “Why would he do that?”
I inhaled a tear-filled breath. “He did it for me. He was protecting me, just like he said he always would. In his mind, you hating him was better than you hating me, and part of me will never forgive him for that.”
She hesitated, looking away. A few beats rolled by as she considered her next words. “Listen…I know from experience that sometimes the people we trust most are capable of things we never thought possible. It happens; it does. And I refuse to be an enabling bystander again, wearing rose-colored glasses, justifying something that’s wrong, just because he’s a family member.” She swallowed. “Just because I love him.”
Studying her, I fell silent, mulling over her words and searching for the deeper truth. “Again?” I echoed. Tara was holding back. Keeping something from me. “What experience?”
Her eyes remained fixated on the far wall, her complexion turning ashy.
My brain spun back in time.
The confrontation with Reed had been horrifying and unexpected. I’d been so lost to the heart-wrenching feelings, the anger, the disbelief, I hadn’t stopped to consider the little moments. The breadcrumbs sprinkled in, adding a new layer to an already nightmarish fallout.
Charleston.
Something had happened in Charleston.
Stacy.
“Tara.” I took a step forward, softening my voice. “Tell me what happened in Charleston.”
She lifted her head, her eyes flaring. “I…I can’t.”
“You have to. I need more context.” I stared at her, pleadingly. “It doesn’t make sense that you’d slap a label like that on your father when he’s only ever loved you, unconditionally.”
She blinked at me.
And just like that, her features crumpled.
Tara draped both hands over her face and hunched over, tears drenching her fingertips. “It was my fault,” she sobbed.
Empathy soared to the surface, overriding my resentment. My best friend was hurting, and I didn’t know why. I bridged the gap between us and pulled her into my arms. “Tell me.” I comforted her with gentle touches as she vibrated with sadness. “Please. I need to understand.”
“She was my best friend and I failed her.”
“Who? Stacy?”
She nodded.
“I don’t believe that. You’re an amazing friend.”
“It’s true.” Sniffling, she popped her head up, swiping beneath her eyes. “There was this teacher. Mr. Baker. He taught sophomore English class and would leave us little sonnets and poems sometimes, hidden in our folders. I thought it was sweet. He was handsome and charming, and because he was older, I assumed he was just being nice. Fatherly. He had a daughter, so it made sense at the time.”
My chest panged as I held my breath, processing her words.
“Stacy was my best friend. She sat next to me in homeroom and made me feel like we’d known each other our whole lives. Just like you.” Tara rubbed at her nose, her eyes bloodshot, lashes damp. “She was struggling in English class, and Mr. Baker offered to tutor her after school. She told me she felt uncomfortable, but I convinced her to do it. He was so kind, so attentive. I never thought…”
Oh, God…
A sour feeling swirled in my gut as the pieces fell into place.
“Months went on, and Stacy started acting mopey and withdrawn. She said her grades were bad. I didn’t think anything of it. But she stopped wanting to hang out with me. With everyone. She always had plans, other things to do.” Her breath quivered as she inhaled. “One day, I saw her reading a note in the bathroom. I took it from her and she freaked out. It was from Mr. Baker. But it wasn’t innocent, Halley. It was awful. Disgusting. I couldn’t believe it.”
Tears slid down my face, my eyes closing. “Tara…”