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I know that people suffering from PTSD can have episodes where they snap. What if this is one of those moments? What if she thinks I’m her foster father? What if seeing me brought back the years of pain and humiliation she suffered at the hands of that monster? I wouldn’t blame her for wanting to ruin me. My chest constricts at the thought of what that poor girl has gone through and continues to go through. Everything makes sense. Or some of it, anyway.
Maybe that’s why she chose me.
I’m the father figure she needs revenge on.
How can I hate her for that?
“Thanks, Isaac, I owe you one,” I say, still at a loss. My friend nods, his gaze locked on me, with a warning there I can’t quite decipher. I hold up the folder. “Can I take this?”
Isaac nods. “Sure. Just get it back to me tomorrow. And don’t let Marissa find it.”
There’s no chance of that happening since Marissa isn’t coming anywhere near me.
Standing up, I pick up the folder containing Chloe’s whole life and head outside. I’m not sure why I want to know everything, but I do. Maybe she doesn’t want anything to do with me, but that doesn’t mean I have to give up on her.
For whatever reason, I care about this girl.
* * *
The sun is beginningto set as I drive home and I find myself hoping Chloe has some warm, safe place to stay the night, or even better, she comes to her senses and accepts my help. I don’t even care why she’s been blackmailing me anymore. I’m sure she had her reasons. Now that I know more about what she’s been through, it’s a hell of a lot easier for me to forgive her. I’m not sure there is anything she could say that would make me turn her away. I just wish I could get that through to her.
The dark house greets me once more, and I let myself in, making a beeline for my office. Kicking my shoes off, I sit down, put my feet up, crack open the file and start reading. The cold, clinical language of her evaluations doesn’t take any of the emotion out of what happened to her. Her detailed confession of the abuses she suffered and how she would have continued to let him hurt her if he hadn’t tried to hurt her brother. I turn the page and find the original transcript of her interview with the detectives when they arrested her for the murder. Chills race down my spine as I read.
Chloe: Jake tried to protect me, just like he always does. He was always there when I needed him.
Detective: What happened the night Victor died, Chloe?
Chloe: Jake caught Victor in my room.
Detective: What was Victor doing in your room?
Chloe: He was in my bed, on top of me. He’d made me take off my nightgown and his pants were undone. Then he touched me. I cried and told him to stop but he kept going. I told him it hurt and he said that while I lived in his house, I had to pay my way.
Detective: Was that the first night Victor had come into your room, Chloe?
Chloe: (pause). No. He started not long after I got there. When I was eight.
Detective: Can we go back to last night, Chloe? What happened next?
Chloe: Jake walked in. He saw what Victor was doing to me and he went crazy. He tried to stop him. I was so scared. I tried to tell Jake it was okay, that he needed to go and leave me alone. But he wouldn’t go. He kept yelling at Victor and hitting him, and then Victor snapped. He grabbed a baseball bat and hit Jake (pause). I knew I had to make a decision. It was Jake’s life or Victor’s. So I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife I could find.
Detective: Then what happened, Chloe?
Chloe: I stabbed Victor with it. I stabbed him over and over again. I couldn’t stop. When the knife broke, I grabbed an ashtray and hit him over the head until I was sure he couldn’t hurt me anymore. I was so scared (pause) I cried and cried. Then Jake scooped me into his arms and told me it would be okay, that I did the right thing. That Victor couldn’t hurt me anymore.
Detective: Jake told you it would be okay?
Chloe: Yes. He told me everything was going to be fine.
Detective: Jake spoke to you after your foster father was dead on the floor?
Chloe: Yes. Why do you keep asking me that?”
Detective: It’s okay, Chloe, I’m just establishing a timeline. What else did Jake say to you?
Chloe: He told me we would sort all of this out and start over somewhere, just the two of us. He’d never let anything happen to me. Why do you keep asking me the same stupid questions? I want to go. I want to see my brother. Please, I need Jake.
I look up at the ceiling, thinking about the pain and suffering she’s been through. Nobody could survive that kind of trauma—it would ruin anyone. The fact that she’s as normal as she seems to be is nothing short of amazing.
