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She made a keening sound. It seemed kinda painful. No, do not feel bad for her! “That wasn’t me either.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Tears gathered in her eyes, and for the first time, I noticed the dark circles beneath them. The way her bottom lip was dry and scabbed over like she’d chewed it raw. She was a thin girl, always had been, but she seemed frailer than before. Like a strong wind could blow her over.
“Look at me,” she said, holding out her arms. “Do I look like I would be able to shove you into a washing machine?”
Kinda wanted to ask her if she was calling me fat, but that was inappropriate. I’d just ask Ben later. No. He’d lie. I’d ask Max. He was mean. He’d tell me the truth.
“If you didn’t do it, then who did?”
She fell quiet, her chin wobbled, and her breathing hitched.
“Crying won’t work on me,” I told her. “I’m the one with a busted body and amnesia.”
She sniffled.
“You were there that night. I remember.” I went on. “You were there and—” I gasped. The fog draped over my mind whisked away, revealing the complete picture.
Our eyes met. She nodded miserably. “It was him.”
Director Fields.
I saw it so clearly now. So clear I wondered how I’d forgotten at all.
To be fair, though, it was something I wished I could scrub from my mind again. So incredibly… ew.
“You,” I said, swallowing. “You and him.”
Tears wept from her eyes as shame and panic wept from the rest of her. “It wasn’t like that.”
“I saw you in his office. After hours. You were on your knees. His… his… You were sucking his dick.”
I’d been so horrified and disgusted at the sight of my high school piano student giving head to a man old enough to be her grandfather—an authority figure at that—I couldn’t even contain my revulsion and gave myself away.
He’d heard of course. He knew right away he’d been caught and what it meant. His impeccable career, all his achievements. The tenure he enjoyed at the elite university where he led an entire department. He was married, had kids. His reputation was pristine.
It was all a cover. A façade for something much more sinister.
She started to weep in earnest, heavy sobs rolling through her chest as her shoulders bowed under the weight of dejection. “I know,” she keened. “He made me do it! He told me if I kept up my lessons with you and got better and… and did things for him, then he would make sure I got into the music department here at Westbrook next fall. We both know I’m not good enough to get in on my own. I suck at piano!” she wailed. “I don’t even like it. But it was my mother’s dream for me. She wanted me to go there so bad. To be just like her.” She swiped at her cheeks, lifting red-rimmed eyes to me. “She died two years ago. I just wanted to do this for her.”
“Oh my God,” I said, angry and heartbroken all at the same time. The emotions were like a force of nature inside me, battling it out to see which would prevail. I was shaking and sweating, unable to even wrap my mind around someone who would take advantage of an underaged girl who was trying to fulfill her dead mother’s dream.
“Oh, Chalene,” I whimpered, propping up the crutch and using it to try and stand.
She came forward, hesitating right before touching me.
I held out my hand. “Will you help me?”
She was there instantly, her blond hair limp on her shoulders, her face blotchy and red. The second I was on my feet, I pulled her into a hug, balancing our weight on my one leg as it wobbled.
“This isn’t your fault,” I told her earnestly. “You aren’t to blame. He is.”
She pulled back. “He told me we were just going to talk to you that night. He asked me to help him find you. That we would all just sit down and talk and he would ask you not to say anything.”
I never would have kept my mouth shut. Even now as I stood here, I itched to get to my cell phone—hell, even that damnable landline—and call the police. I wanted to call the dean of Westbrook and demand Director Fields be terminated and that everyone know what he was.
It wasn’t even me I was most upset for. Attempted murder seemed almost kinder than what this girl had been through.
