Page 29 of We Already Dug the Grave

“He’s not. He’s only thirty and—”

“Jesus. You’re fifteen.”

“Can you at least try to understand?” She wiped at her eyes and sniffed. “He’s the only person who gets me. He sees me, really sees me. Not as some weirdo math girl. Not as something he needs to protect. But as a person.” She paused, her pale cheeks blotchy and red. “I…I don’t have anything. Let me have this.”

The plea stung. Because what was I if not someone who got Frances? And how could she say she didn’t have anything when she was beautiful and brilliant without even trying?

My gaze narrowed. “Let you have this? Are you kidding? You don’t have this. You don’t have him. You understand that? You don’t. He has you. You’re the one who should try to understand.” I grabbed her hands. “You know he’s married, right? I’ve seen his wife.”

Frances shook her head. “He doesn’t love her.”

“What about his son?”

“You mean stepson.”

“Frances,” I pressed. “We can get you out of this. We have to tell someone. The aunts will know what to do. They’ll help us fix this and—”

“No,” Frances almost yelled. Then, quieter. “No. Please. You can’t tell anyone. I won’t ruin his life. All he’s done is love me.”

My mouth gaped open, my hands falling to my side at the word. Love. I stared at her for a hard moment.

She reached for me.

“Milly. Please. If this gets out, it’ll be exactly like Shane said. No one will understand. He’ll get in trouble, but also—” Her voice cracked. “Also everyone will talk about me even worse than they already do.”

My heart broke open, because I knew what she meant. It had been my original concern too.

I squeezed my eyes closed, a hissing breath escaping between my teeth.

She was right. Of course I couldn’t tell. If this got out, Frances would suffer the most. All she’d ever be was the girl who got caught with a teacher. The echo of the scandal would follow her forever.

Her scholarship to the gifted school would disappear.

I couldn’t let that happen.

But neither could I let things continue. Even if Frances couldn’t see it was wrong.

“Fine,” I croaked. “I won’t tell.”

“Thank you, I promise—”

I held up my hand. “Under one condition. You end it. This isn’t happening anymore. You understand? You tell him that if he doesn’t leave you alone, I’m going to make sure everyone knows he’s a disgusting pervert.”

“He’s not. He’s—”

“Frances. I mean it. You tell him that tomorrow. Do it, or I’ll take matters into my own hands. I’m not playing around.”

Frances sniffed and wiped her tears on the back of her arm. “Fine.”

“Fine,” I echoed.

My sister stormed out of the bathroom.

Chapter 11

Now

It was dark when I pulled up to the driveway, the sky an inkblot with no stars.