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“He remembered something. Something he must’ve locked away. Something he wanted to forget.”
Brett sits up in the chair. “What?”
“It has something to do with the night your father died,” Chosen says, looking around at everyone until her eyes return to mine. She walks over to me, taking both of my hands into hers. “It’s okay, Lix. They’re your family. They love you. They’ll understand.”
She moves to my side, releasing one of my hands but gripping tightly to the other. Again, her strength seeps into me.
I suck in a deep breath and let it back out slowly. “I killed him.”
Cole’s face twists. “Who?”
“I got the gun from his office,” I say, shifting my eyes to Brett while summoning all my strength. “I walked into the living room and shot our father.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I hear Cole but don’t dare take my eyes off Brett.
He’s been trying to free our mom for so long, and I held the key to her freedom all along. He will never forgive me for this. Never.
“Lix must’ve blocked it out,” Chosen explains. “He remembered the other night. That’s why he went to see your mom today. To ask her about it.”
“Is it true?” Brett asks, not releasing me from his hard gaze.
I nod.
Brett stands from the chair. My insides burn like a tree struck by lightning burning from the inside out. Goosebumps ripple over my flesh, tiny regrets racing for the finishing line. He walks around the desk and stops in front of me. Everything he’s done for me. He plucked me from hell’s hands and saved me from turning to the streets. And I failed him.
I pull my hand from Chosen’s. Hold my head up high, preparing for my retribution. Mom has been in jail all those years because of me. I deserve whatever I got coming.
“What did Mom say?” Brett’s eyes level me, shrinking me back to that eight-year old and whatever strength the kid has left in him. “She confirmed it?”
The burn slithers to my eyes. “Yes.” I swallow. “S-she made me promise never to speak of it. To forget about it. And f-fuck.” I blink away the sting in my eyes, forbidding it to devour me. “I did. I don’t know how, but it wiped clean from my memory. I didn’t remember it until the other night. It’s my fault. It’s all my fucking fault.”
Brett’s hand comes up. Cole leaps forward. Brett grabs the back of my neck and pulls me to him. “It’s not your fault, little brother,” he whispers into my ear. His words break the rubber band holding me together. My shoulders drop, and my body falls into him. “You did what I couldn’t.” He wraps his arms around me. “It’s okay,” he says with a cracked voice. I cling to him, again like the eight-year-old me, and he squeezes me tight. “We’ll figure it out, Lix.” He palms the sides of my face. “No one blames you.” He looks me straight in the eyes. “You hear me? No one.”
He’s staring at me as he had the night I killed our father. The cops showed up. Brett told me I didn’t need to speak to them. I didn’t need to tell anyone anything. I never had to talk about it if I didn’t want to. It was like he knew what I did and was doing what he always did, protecting me. But he didn’t know the truth. Only Mom did, and she made me promise to never speak of it.
Perhaps that’s why I shut it off in my head for all these years. I wanted to keep my promise.
And I didn’t say a single word. In fact, I didn’t speak again until we got to our first foster home, when I felt safe in the same house with my brothers and the two people who seemed to genuinely care about us.
Cole touches my shoulder, pulling my eyes from my eldest brother. Brett takes a step back.
“What are we going to do?” Cole glances from me to Brett, getting to the meat and potatoes of what this all means.
“Whatever Lix wants to do.” Brett nods, cramming his hands into his pockets.
I’m not sure what to say. This isn’t what I thought would happen. I assumed Brett would kick my ass to the curb. I considered Cole’s understanding. He’s an out-of-the-box thinker, but Brett. I never thought he’d understand.
Brett’s eyebrows lift.
It’s my turn to be the brave one. “I want to get Mom out of jail.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Brett says, returning to his desk.
“So,” Cole peers at me from the corner of his eyes. “How do we do that?”
“We’ll call Mom’s lawyer, and I’ll tell her the truth,” I suggest. “Between Lucy Deetman and me, it should be enough to get her out?”
Brett sits in his chair. “Sofia already has a court date. I’ll call her and update her about what’s going on.” He pauses and studies me momentarily. “You sure you want to testify?”
