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What hurt the most, though, was Effie. I’d known Effie since the third grade. We’d witnesse
d each other’s first kisses; we’d held each other through our first breakups. She had been there when my parents died and had held my hand at the funeral.
She was more than my best friend. She was my sister.
And then she was gone from my life. All it took was a rumor blown way out of proportion. I went to her a day after the rape. I gathered all my strength to tell her I had been raped and that Morris had forced himself on me. At first she was the same old Effie. She held me as I cried. She promised we would make the police believe my story.
Then two days later the news started running my story. They painted me as a liar. They pulled every bit of information they could about my past and twisted it into a believable fiction. I called Effie for support, but she didn’t answer. I kept calling and calling until she finally picked up and said, “Look, Nami, I can’t keep supporting your delusions. Get help.” She hung up and that was the last I heard of her. I didn’t believe it at first. I couldn’t. How can you believe that your best friend, your sister, just abandons you after over a decade?
I knew I should have moved on. I’d moved on from everything else. I’d thrown yogurt in her face! Still. It’s one thing to move beyond the noxious, black tar that’s got you sinking, and another to give up hope in the sister that used to keep you tethered.
Law reached over and rubbed my back, helping me finish the story. I smiled gratefully at him and said, “I don’t know why she’s calling me now.”
“She probably saw the news,” Law offered.
“So?” I said into my hands, forcing my tears back inside.
“So the news isn’t painting you as a liar any more,” Law continued. “Effie probably saw the news.” I looked from Law to my phone and back to Law. I summoned all my strength to press play and finish the voicemail.
“…I saw the news and I would really like to talk to you. Please call me back. My number is the same.” I stared at the phone, unsure what to feel.
I felt Law’s gaze on me, but he didn’t say anything until I looked up to him. “What do you want to do?”
I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Part of me really wanted to reach out. I’d been so lonely and I missed Effie. I missed our stupid fights. I missed our girl talks. I missed riding in the car and singing along to songs. I missed sleepovers. I missed shopping. I missed eating ice cream together and watching dumb TV shows.
I missed her.
But I missed the Effie that was my sister, and the Effie that called me wasn’t her any more. The Effie that called me had abandoned me.
I exhaled, pushing away the leftover waffles on my plate. “Right now I just want to go home.”
“I’ll take you back right now.” Law signaled for the check.
“I mean…” I bit my nail and looked away, hoping I wasn’t being too forward. “I want to go home with you.”
I lay in bed with Law, staring out the window at the Salt Lake City skyline.
We’d made love.
Now he held me.
I turned on the TV, even though he’d told me not to; call it a morbid fascination or a need to know. Slowly, I slipped out of his sleepy embrace.
Hours later and the news still hadn’t stopped reporting on the same thing: me.
For once, though, they weren’t picking me apart. They weren’t tearing into me like leftover nachos. My picture (an old but at least somewhat flattering one) was raised in the corner; I was somber and serious looking. It was unlike the months before, where they’d seemed to use any shot they could to plaster me as a harlot. The picture they had now was almost regal looking.
It was odd to be on the other side. To watch the vultures pick at someone else. The picture of Morris on the screen was of an unflattering angle. His chin looked weak, his eyes beady, and contempt seemed to radiate from his pores. I wondered if the world would see the Morris that had haunted me for nearly a year.
There was no new news to report. The reporters merely rehashed the day’s earlier developments. Their assessments floated in and out of my ears as I trained my gaze on Morris. I locked onto his small blue gaze and thought of his family. I wondered what he was telling his wife and children. I wondered what his constituents were thinking. I almost let myself get sucked back in, but then Law groaned in his sleep. He reached a hand out, tugging at my waist. The action jerked me out of my spiraling thoughts.
I wasn’t sure what the next months held for us. I wasn’t even sure what the next few days held for us. Now that the world knew the truth, it was an entirely different battlefront.
I felt sorry for the world. I was sorry they had to know the truth. I knew what that truth did to a person. I’d experienced it firsthand. It was a truth so ugly it could change a person’s very soul. Lucky for me, Law had come along. He’d agreed to share his soul. Because of him, my soul had never truly blackened. It had grayed, it had withered a bit, but because of Law, it had stayed intact.
I cuddled closer to Law, stealing a bit more of his warmth.
I wasn’t poetic enough to call Law my angel. I wasn’t a damsel needing saving. I was in distress, but Law didn’t wear shining armor. He hadn’t rescued me from perdition. Law had seen me in Hell and had helped me build the map out. Law was my compass.
