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I open my eyes and see Penelope standing there. “What time is it?”
“Almost three. I wanted to talk to you before Easton got home.”
“Doesn’t he have hockey after school?”
“Yes, but he insisted on coming here to check on you before practice.” She smiles as she sits beside me. “I assured him you’re fine, but he needs to see for himself.”
I sit up. “So what do you want to talk about?”
“What we spoke about earlier, about what happened when you were living with your father. I apologize for pushing you like that. It’s a sensitive issue for me. I spent a lot of years trying to lock away men like the one you described and oftentimes there just wasn’t enough evidence and they were back out there, abusing young girls, using them to profit off of. I’m sure it’s difficult for you to talk about, but if you ever decide to go after this man, I’ll—”
“I don’t.”
She nods. “Fair enough.”
“You won’t tell Easton?”
“No. This is just between us.” She pauses. “Can I ask you something else? Last question. I promise.”
“What is it?”
“Does your father know what happened?”
I don’t know why, but as soon as she mentioned my dad, all the emotions I felt from my dad selling me out to that guy came flooding back. It’s like I’d had them held up behind a dam and the dam burst, the pain and sadness coursing through me, causing an ache in my chest, a burn in my throat, and tears to well up in my eyes.
I look down and keep quiet, hoping she’ll go away. A tear slides down my face, then another.
“Nova, what is it?” Penelope moves closer to me. “You’re not telling me he was part of this, are you?”
I nod, just barely, but that, along with my silence, is enough for her to know.
She pulls me into a hug. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
I hate her right now. I hate her for talking to me and hugging me and asking me all these fucking questions. I want to shove her away and yell at her to leave me alone. But there’s this other part of me that wanted to tell her—or anyone—just so I wouldn’t have to keep carrying around this secret. I’m not even sure why it’s a secret. Why am I afraid to tell anyone? Am I trying to protect him? Protect my dad? Why would I do that? He’s done nothing but hurt me. Why would I try to protect him?
“He said he was getting me a job,” I whisper, my tears drying up as I force those emotions back into hiding. I want to feel nothing for my father, or what he did, what he’s done. I used to hold out hope that maybe someday he could be back in my life, but not anymore. He’s dead to me now.
Penelope pulls away, looking at me with this horrified expression, even though I’m sure back when she was a prosecutor she heard a lot worse than this. “Your father connected you with this man?”
“Yes.” I clear my throat and speak calmly, like I’m talking about someone else. “We met him for dinner. Then my dad went home and I went back to the guy’s office for an… interview. That’s what he called it.”
“And that’s when… “
I nod.
“Is this why you’re reluctant to report this man? Because of a need to protect your father?”
“My dad’s not part of the business. He just introduced me to the guy.”
“My guess is he’s getting a cut of any girl he brings in,” Penelope says, sitting up straighter. She’s set her emotions aside and is all business now, like she’s ready to take this guy to court and lock him away.
“I still don’t want to do it. I don’t want to get involved. I just want to forget it.”
“I understand, but the offer is still there if you change your mind.”
“Nova? You down here?” Easton yells. I hear him coming down the stairs, then see him at the door to my room. “Shit, did I wake you up?”
“I was up,” I tell him.
