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"Me? Someone had to be the responsible one since Dad wasn't home much and Charly just wanted to have fun. I was very organized, and since I wasn't outgoing like Charly, it was a role I naturally fell into."
"So your older sister played while you basically did all the work?" It didn't matter it was years ago; I was pissed that a child should have been put into that position.
"She was a young teenager. She deserved to have fun."
How could she defend their actions? "And you didn't? You were just a little girl!" She flinched at my voice. I stood up and refilled my glass, pacing restlessly through the room to tame my growing fury.
"You don't understand," she cried. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
I stopped my pacing in front of her. I knew it didn't help her anxiety towering over her, so I sat back on the couch, only this time right next to her. "You’re right, I don't. She was the big sister. She should have been home trying to help you. Why did she deserve to play while you worked? Huh, Maddy? Tell me that," he hissed.
"Because I'm the reason our mom died," she whispered.
Whatever reason she was going to give, that wasn’t one I was expecting. "What?"
"Our mom hemorrhaged to death after I was born. Charly lost her mom because of me." She buried her head in the pillow like she was ashamed.
She thought she owed her older sister because she blamed herself for her mother's death? That was one hell of a burden to place on oneself. The heart that I thought died five years ago was obviously alive and well judging from the pain that suddenly seared through it. Her life started out on such tragic footing, and it didn’t get much better.
Tugging the pillow away from her so she couldn't hide behind it, I leaned in close. "You're not to blame, Maddy. You don't owe anyone anything, especially for something you had no control over." Without the pillow in the way, I lifted her chin with my finger. To my surprise, there were no tears, just a resigned, almost stoic look on her face. "That's what you meant that night in your apartment about being born was a crime in your family, wasn't it?"
When she didn't deny it, I caved. "Oh, sweetheart." To hell with whatever limits friendship placed. I pulled her on my lap and kissed the top of her head. She sat stiff as a board; her spine held straight and her shoulders tense. Using both hands, I slowly massaged her shoulders, trying to rub the tension out. It must have worked because her shoulders slowly lowered. Taking advantage of it, I leaned back slightly against the arm of the couch, taking her with me. She exhaled deeply, and it was like all the fight drained out of her.
"School came easy to me,” she mumbled against my chest. “I thought maybe I could change everyone's mind about me if I could prove that I was different, that having the Stone genes didn't mean we were destined to be lazy, drunk, or slutty. I think I did for the most part, but there were some who were all too happy to remind me of where I came from.
“Mrs. M, well Mrs. Kissinger back then, was one of the first people to tell me I could be anything I wanted to be. That's when I decided I wanted to be a teacher like her. And I never veered from that goal. Eventually, I got a part-time job after school, but most of that money went to keep our power turned on. The only chance I had at going to college was to get a scholarship."
I remained quiet, letting her tell her story while I alternated between rubbing her back and playing with her hair that seemed to beg my fingers to comb through it.
"My high school counselor was helping me with applications my senior year when she called me out of class to her office. There was a man there, Paul Regis. She said he was a regional vice-president for one of the national lumber store chains, which happened to have a major warehouse nearby. He explained that because our town made up most of the employees, they wanted to give something back to the community and were creating a college scholarship based on academic excellence and financial need. They thought I was the perfect candidate."
I couldn’t stop from tensing when she mentioned Regis's name, but I held my tongue. I listened as she explained how Regis had not only interviewed her at school, but that he stopped by her house a couple of times with extra paperwork. He invited her out to dinner to celebrate getting the scholarship. She thought it seemed beyond what was appropriate, but Charly had come home and once wrangling her own invitation, convinced her they should accept. All of my senses were on high alert, waiting for her to tell me just how inappropriate he had gotten.
"Charly kept telling me how handsome she thought Paul was after our dinner. He seemed charmed by her. Most of the time I just sat and ate, while they talked and laughed. I knew something felt off, but I didn't want to jeopardize my ticket out of town. Besides, Charly was an adult, even if she didn't act like it most of the time.
"One day I came home from school. Paul's car was in front of our trailer. I thought it was strange since he knew I'd be at school. When I walked in the door, I heard what sounded like a muffled cry from Charly's bedroom. I rushed to her door and saw Paul was on top of her on the bed, one hand over her mouth and one hand trying to pull down her shorts. She was struggling, and I saw tears in her eyes. It looked like her arms were tied. Neither of them saw me, so I ran to the hutch in the living room where I knew my father used to keep a gun. I didn't know if it was still there, and I swear I thought it was unloaded."
I wrapped her tighter in my arms as she started to shake. I was sure I knew where this was headed.
"I went back to the bedroom and called out his name. He looked up and saw me. He laughed and said I had perfect timing, that now he could have
both sisters at one time."
Her shaking grew worse. She buried her head in my chest, muffling her words, but I caught them anyway. "He just laughed at me, Holt. He climbed off of Charly and told me if I wanted to keep my scholarship, I should take my clothes off and join her on the bed. So I pulled the gun from behind my back. He laughed harder. He said I wasn't dumb enough to pull the trigger and ruin my ticket out of town. He said I owed him. I cocked the gun. I remember my hands were shaking so hard, and the gun felt so heavy, but he didn't stop. I'm not even sure what happened next. I think he lunged for me, but somehow I pulled the trigger and then he was on the floor, blood pooling under him. I didn’t even know it was loaded."
Her voice had dropped off to just above a whisper, but her words were so intense they rang in my ears like cathedral bells at noon.
Dozens of thoughts raced through my head, each one worse than the previous one. She'd been sentenced for murder when she was only protecting someone else? That's not right. Maybe voluntary manslaughter. And that meant the 'witness' who didn't show up was her own sister!
I sat up, startling her with the suddenness of my movement and almost making her fall on the floor. I caught her and settled her while I stood up. I ran my hands across the sides of my face and clasped them behind my head.
I turned to face her. "What happened to Charly? Why didn't she show up for your trial?"
Shaking her head, she seemed to choke on her words. "She ran off before the police got there, and I haven't heard from her since. At least until..."
Worried eyes snapped to mine. "I got a letter from her on Friday. That's one reason I went out that night," she said. "I needed to clear my head, but with everything that happened afterward, I forgot about what she wrote. Hang on."
Hopping off the couch, she hurried to her bedroom and came back with two envelopes, one much larger than the other. Without a word she handed them to me, then curled up in the corner of the couch hugging her knees close and biting her lip.
