“I won’t make that trade.” I handed her the phone. “And I’m not running to Dad, either. You’re an adult. Tell them yourself.”
***
I expected a call that night. Nothing.
But a few days later, Dad invited me to “an important family dinner.”
“You’re an adult. Tell them yourself.”
***
I walked into the dining room with my stomach in knots.
Valerie was already there, eyes puffy.
Dad and Diane stared at me like I’d been brought in for questioning.
“Sit,” Dad said. “Valerie told us everything.”
I blinked. “Everything?”
Dad and Diane stared at me like I’d been brought in for questioning.
“She lied to us about the gala,” Diane said. “She saw those awful friends. But Nora, she saved a life!”
“I know about the bridge.”
“A girl nearly fell to her death,” Dad said, his voice thick. “And our daughter grabbed her. Do you know how close that was?”
“I do,” I said. “I watched it. She was brave.”
Diane relaxed, thinking I’d come around.
“I know about the bridge.”
“Then you understand why you can’t go through with this lawsuit. After everything she did?”
“You need to let this go, Nora,” Dad said. “Your sister could’ve watched someone fall off that bridge. She ruined a dress. People are alive.”
I listened and realized what they were NOT saying.
Then I looked at Valerie. She wouldn’t meet my eye, and I knew she hadn’t told them everything.
I realized what they were NOT saying.
“She hasn’t told you everything,” I said.
Valerie stiffened.
“What else is there?” Dad asked me.
I looked at Valerie. “You tell them.”
“Nora,” Diane said. “What happened?”
