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“When we saw you on TV, we were hoping you would come back here to explain what was going on. We gave you the break you said you needed from us, but we can’t ignore the trouble you’re in.” She gently places her arms around me for a hug and something inside of me tells me to lift my arms and hug her back, but I can’t. I can’t offer a form of affection I don’t feel, and I can’t forget everything that we’ve been through, no matter how much time has passed.
“This isn’t my home anymore,” I tell her. “And I don’t need your help.” Allowing them back into my life would reopen the door to manipulation and control. I can’t go through that again.
“Haley, why in the world would you go near any member of that family? Larissa? Lara—whatever her name is now?” Dad scolds me. That’s how it starts with him—the belittling comes first. “And how can you say you don’t need our help? It’s obvious you do.”
I grit my teeth and press the heels of my palms into my pulsating temples. “Why won’t you listen to me? I didn’t know who I was dealing with when I showed up at their house. Shefooled me,” I say, looking back and forth between the two of them.
“We all make mistakes, sweetheart,” Mom says, not picking up on my sarcasm.
“We do all make mistakes,” Dad follows.
“Mistakes?” I ask them, pulling away from Mom, needing more space. “Is that what you tell yourselves? We all get to come back from mistakes?”
“Well, no. I didn’t say that. I think we all know that we can’t always undo what we’ve done wrong,” Mom says.
“Exactly. You two are the perfect example—your ‘mistakes’ caused me so much pain and discontent, and no matter how many times I tried to tell you this, you acted as if you never heard a word I said. I’ve stayed away from you both for so long because I am aware that you can’t always undo what you’ve done wrong. Case in point,” I say, waving at myself.
Mom and Dad share a look and shake their heads. “We didn’t make a mistake with the way we raised you. We stand by our decisions,” Dad says.
“Okay, enough with the blame,” Mom shouts. “The Smith family is going to come for you, Haley. You need to stay here until this is all resolved. You must know it’s the right thing to do considering the consequences you’ve already paid in the past few days.” Mom shakes her head and peers down to the floor. “You know, no matter what happens…we will always do what we can to protect you. That’s all we’ve ever promised, and we will stand true to our word.” Mom holds her hands in prayer over her chest.
I glance over at Dad, hearing a groan rumble in his throat. He’s holding his head in his hand. “Your mother is right, but this ordeal is out of control. You need to stay here until things are resolved with that baby.”
Trying to reason with them has never gotten me anywhere but I keep thinking they’ll hear me someday. “You want to protect me by holding me hostage in this house again? No. Not again. I can’t go back to that life. You need to let me go.” I back away from them, moving closer to the front door so I can run.
THIRTY-FOUR
MONDAY, JUNE 12TH 7:15 PM
When a person ignores a problem, the problem will eventually become indestructible.
My parents haven’t learned this fact.
“Haley, don’t do that—don’t leave like this. You can’t just walk away from us again. Your decisions affect those who love you. Don’t you see that?” Mom cries out.
“What decisions? I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I was a good daughter, one who always complied with your desire to puppeteer my life. You left me no choice but to push you away. I needed to have my own life and I still do. I deserve to have that. I didn’t invite you back in. I didn’t ask for this.”
Dad throws his arms up in the air as his face burns red with rage. “You actually think you didn’t invite us back in?” he shouts. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I run out the door, knowing I need to get away before he decides to chase after me. My pulse is throbbing in my temples as I run down the corroded driveway, wondering what lengths Dad will go to follow me. The need to have control over me is like a drug addiction.
“Hi, Haley,” our neighbor shouts from across the street. “Long time, no see. How the heck are you?”
“I’m doing great,” I shout, waving as I run past their house. “I hope you’re well too!”
I hear him laugh. “It looks like you’re running from something. Remember that’s what I used to tell you when you were younger.” His words trail off and the echo of his laughter follows me down the street.I remember it well.
No one ever knows what happens behind closed doors. Little did he know I was trying to run from something.
While racing down the street, I order an Uber to meet me a couple of streets down so I don’t have to stand around and wait. When I reach my destination, I stop and drop my hands to my knees, gasping for air. The pain in my neck pulsates along the bruises, reminding me that I shouldn’t be doing anything strenuous, like sprinting.
A silver sedan turns onto the street. I walk forward, meeting the car in front of the bushes where the two street corners meet, and climb into the back seat. “Hi there,” he says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“Hi. I’m in a bit of a rush. I’m so sorry.”
He seems to understand and steps on the gas, leaving quickly enough that even if Dad stepped out of the house and got into his car, he wouldn’t have time to catch up and follow me.
My heart races for the duration of the ride to the Smiths’ house, which appears quiet. For all I know, Lara could be hiding somewhere, but I’m sure the police searched thoroughly. Maybe they found her, and I just don’t know. It seemed like they were still heavily searching when Madden and I left.
