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“I can’t. It was nine months ago.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I destroyed all the evidence, and he has that photo.”
“Willow, you have to—”
“I don’t have to do anything,” I said. “I can’t… God, I… I feel so dirty.”
“He’s the dirty one,” Angie spat. “He’s a disgusting, vile, despicable, inhuman monster. He’s the one that should be ashamed. He’s the one…” She broke off, shaking her head. She reached for one of her T-shirts to wipe her eyes, then handed it to me.
Barkley laid his long muzzle in my lap, and looked up at me with liquid brown eyes in that silent way dogs have of understanding everything.
“I’ve never told anyone,” I said. “Ever. Not until last night. Please, just let me…process that it’s out there. Okay?”
“Of course.” Angie hugged me hard again. “God, I’m sorry. Whatever you need. Whatever you want.”
A knock at the door and a woman’s voice called from the other side, “Angie?”
The door opened to an older version of Angie. The same black curls, same plump roundness in a flowing dress.
“Honey, I’m heading out. Is Barkley in— Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Her face morphed into shocked concern as she looked from me to her daughter and back again. “Hello…?”
“Willow, this is my mom, Bonnie,” Angie said, her arms still around me. “Mom, this is my friend, Willow Holloway. She had a rough night last night. She needs to get cleaned up, have a shower and some food, and then we need to tell her parents she spent the night here with me, okay?”
“Angela,” Bonnie said in a grave tone.
“Nothing illegal happened, I promise,” Angie said. “She needs our help, okay? Please. You can trust me. You know you can.”
Bonnie shooed Barkley away gently, and sat on the other side of me, brushed my long hair back from my face. “You’ve been drinking.”
Angie bit her lip. “Okay, so one illegal thing…”
“Angie had nothing to do with it, Mrs. McKenzie,” I said. “I promise. And I’m so sorry for showing up here like this. She’s right, I had a rough night, that’s all.”
“Willow’s playing Ophelia in the HCT production of Hamlet,” Angie said. “It’s a big deal. And she’s brilliant. Her parents will pull her out of it if we don’t help her.”
“I don’t like lying,” Bonnie said, all the while stroking my hair as if Angie and I had been friends since preschool. “I’ll make an exception if you both promise me that saying she spent the night here is enough to fix things. I don’t want to find out there was more to the story and my lie made things worse. You get what I’m saying?”
We nodded.
“Okay. I’m going to trust you both.” Her tone implied she better not regret it later.
“Thank you.” I sagged against her and she wrapped her arms around me. A mother’s hug, warm and comforting. “Thank you,” I whispered again. “I’m so sorry.”
“Is there something you want to talk about, honey?” she asked.
“No,” I said, shooting Angie a look.
Then my phone rang, making us all jump.
“God, it’s my mom,” I said, my voice trembling. “She’s going to tell my dad. I’ll lose Hamlet.” I swallowed hard. “I’ll lose Hamlet.”
Bonnie plucked the phone out of my hand and hit the green answer button.
“Hello, Mrs. Holloway? My name is Bonnie McKenzie, I’m Angie McKenzie’s mom.” A pause, and she frowned. “Angie. Willow’s friend?” Pause. “Yes, hi. Willow is in the shower right now. I answered her phone because I’m sure you’re concerned about her.” A pause. “Yes, last night, my daughter was studying at The Scoop. The girls met up after Willow’s rehearsal and decided to come here. They stayed up too late talking and lost track of time. I’d assumed Willow called you, but learned this morning that’s not the case.”
Angie and I exchanged glances, listening with rising hope as her mom saved my ass.
