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I smile when I address his mum. “Well, he hasn’t changed. When was the last time you took him?”
“Mum!” CJ whines, covering his face.
I smile at the awkwardness in his voice, practically bouncing in my seat. “When?”
“Allie!” CJ groans.
Milly ignores her son, winking at me. “A few weeks ago. He’d come home and eaten all the food. I thought he’d outgrown it, but no; he just learnt how to hide it.”
“I really am hungry,” CJ comments, pretending we aren’t talking about him. He’s seriously cute when he pouts.
“I’ll get the food ready.”
*** *** ***
While we eat, I listen to all of Milly’s stories about CJ growing up. I even asked what his initials stand for, but she laughed, saying she’d promised CJ she wouldn’t tell anyone. I tried my hardest to find out, but it was no use—not with him sitting across from his mum, glaring at her in warning.
I’ll have to make sure I get her alone.
As the hours pass, I begin to kick myself for worrying over nothing. Milly is nothing like my mother, or like the mothers I heard stories from who have met the parents. She’s kind, funny, and so much like her son it’s uncanny.
She also loves him as much as he loves her, and it warmed my heart to see their interactions. It allowed me to see another side to him. He was so careful with his mum, always offering to help with something, like the dishes, or to do something while he was there. He was interested in how she was doing or how her week at work had been. It was a relationship I never had with either of my parents, and it made me crave it more as I witnessed the bond they shared. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before.
I must have spaced out because CJ elbows me in the ribs. “Sorry, what?”
He chuckles. “Sorry, are we boring you?”
My cheeks burn. “No, sorry. I was just thinking.”
His mum laughs, tapping the top of my hand affectionately. “Not to worry. We all do it.”
“What did you say?” I ask, glancing at CJ.
“Mum asked how the councillor was getting on with the victims. She knows about everything that happened with Logan and Jamie, and I told her about Jordan’s company that works with young victims and how she helped the girls.”
My eyes widen in surprise, shocked he would tell his mum about the mess Logan caused. But as I think about it further, it makes sense that he would talk to her about it. They have an open and honest relationship, and he doesn’t hold much back from her.
I turn to Milly and give her a small smile. “It’s going really good for some of the girls. Some are able to find closure, from what they’ve told me. I keep in touch with a lot of them, but some are still struggling to go to their appointments. We booked one-to-one sessions for those who needed them, but I don’t know if it’s helping.”
Milly’s eyes draw together as she thinks something over. “We have a program for young victims. It’s an intense course, but it’s helped a lot of young women. If you want to refer anyone, I can give you a bunch of leaflets before you leave. I’m sorry about what happened to you and your friends. CJ filled me in. How are your friends coping?”
CJ squeezes my hand under the table, and I’m grateful for the support. “Willow was doing okay until we went home for our term break. I think being back in a space where she spent so much time with him brought back all those memories for her. It’s why we came back a few days early.”
She nods in understanding. “She has a lot to get through. If you want, I can meet up with her personally. I run sessions Mondays and Thursdays for people who just want to get out. It doesn’t have to involve anything about what happened. A few of my girls just want the company, and some aren’t ready to get back to work or school, so I help them focus on other stuff.”
An idea occurs to me, and I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before. CJ had told me what his mum does, how she works with others who have lived through similar circumstances to her. She helps them build a new life. I didn’t know just how personally involved she got, but from the way she describes it, it’s just like two friends getting together to catch up. Rosie would benefit immensely from something like that.
“Actually, there might be something you could do for me.”
Surprise flickers in her eyes. “Of course—anything.”
I smile with gratitude. “Our new roommate, Rosie, the girl who wasn’t drugged, has been struggling with what happened to her. We organised group sessions for her, but she would return from them even more withdrawn. She confided in me how she hated that the other girls were torn over not remembering what happened to them, when all she wished was that she didn’t. When we realised the group therapy wasn’t working, we got her one-on-one sessions. She was doing loads better, but then, a few days ago, she told her parents what happened. It didn’t go well; they basically said it was God’s will—that she deserved to be punished for her sins.”
“Her sins?” Milly asks, and I can see the spark of anger behind her eyes.
“She’s gay. I don’t want to go into too much detail because it’s not my story to tell, but since then, she hasn’t wanted to leave the house. We tried taking her to the cinema the other day, but she panicked and shut down on us. I hate seeing her hurting so much.”
My eyes water as I think about that night. We’d planned to cheer her up, but all we did was break her apart. She had a panic attack and we ended up taking her home. She hasn’t even been to her one-on-one session since that phone call, or class.
