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They went to the seating area located by the lake. It was pretty at this time of night, the stars in the sky twinkling over the dark, unmoving surface.
Iyore hadn’t stopped crying. Joy’s heart was fucking breaking. They’d ordered drinks from the bar close by, just for something to do with their hands. Whenever people looked curiously in Iyore’s sobbing direction, Joy glared at them with the force of a million suns, forcing them to quickly scurry away.
Iyore’s sobs eventually died down. She took a huge gulp of her drink, then exhaled shakily.
“I-I wanted to apologise again,” she began, her voice trembling. “You don’t know how sorry I am, like, the minute I said those things—it was like I couldseemyself talking—it felt like something had come over me—but I know it’s no excuse. I know I hurt you, all because I obviously haven’t dealt as well with my own shit as I thought I had, and I just …”She stopped, shrugging helplessly. “I’m sorry.”
Joy took a deep breath, leaning back in her seat. “Well. This is supremely fucked up.”
At least Iyore managed to crack a short laugh. “You’re telling me.”
“When did …” Joy had to stop and swallow the sudden lump in her throat.
Iyore managed to pick up the silent question. She waved her hand limply. “Oh, it was a long time ago. We hadn’t even met, by then.”
Joy stared at her. Her limbs felt cold. “We met when we were eleven.”
“Yeah.” Iyore looked like she was going to cry again.
Joy felt filled with an indescribable rage. She wanted to ask who it was, but she didn’t want Iyore living through her trauma again.
Like Iyore knew Joy wanted to ask, she filled in anyway. “It was m-my uncle. He’d been staying with us at the time.” She quickly wiped her eyes. Her hands were shaking. “I remember telling my mum, and she ended up scolding me. Asking me why I’d been alone with him, then saying it’s my fault because I was always s-sitting on his lap because that was how he’d always tell me stories.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“I mean, I did the same thing to you, so I can’t exactly judge her.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s still really messed up.”
Iyore nodded, her throat seemingly too thick to speak. They were silent again.
Joy’s mind was racing. She couldn’t imagine Iyore, a small, bright-eyed child of ten years old or less, being taken advantage of—beingviolatedby her fucking uncle in her own fucking home. Then the gall of her own mother to—
Joy took a deep breath. Her voice didn’t feel like her own when she asked, “Is he still alive?”
Iyore snorted. “Still invited to every family event.”
Joy’s hands clenched in her lap. She didn’t know if she could contain the anger, the pure sense of injustice she felt.
“It’s fine.” Iyore shrugged jerkily. “I know not to go home when I know for certain he’s going to be there. I haven’t seen him face to face in years.”
It didn’t matter. It didn’t fuckingmatter. Who else had he raped, over the years? Joy had been to Iyore’s family gatherings; Iyore had five other siblings, and they were all married with little kids. What if he’d—
Joy’s jaw ached with how hard she was grinding her teeth.
“It’s been years, honestly. I forgive him, anyway. But that doesn’t mean I can forget.”
“Do you really forgive him?”
Iyore’s hands formed fists against the wooden table. She didn’t speak. It was answer enough.
Joy was going to kill him. The decision settled on her like a welcoming blanket. She was absolutely going to kill him. She was going to fuckingdestroyhim.
She glanced at Iyore, but knew she couldn’t outright ask where the man lived. She thought of her demon. Could he find out where someone lived? But how would he, when he didn’t have any information? Joy didn’t even know the man’s name, and she knew it would be really fucking odd to ask.
“Anyway, I noticed you deleted all of your social media,” Iyore said, a falsely bright smile on her face. Joy let her change the subject. “And you changed your number. I h-hope it wasn’t because of me?”
She’d asked the question lightly, like she didn’t really care for the answer.
