Lila

"So the dog was killed about three weeks before I was supposed to go to College. I was eighteen and scared and starting to realize that my dad wasn't innocent the way I'd thought—and that made me really uneasy about all the stuff I'd done for him. He'd used me with those journalists, to plant information, and to gather it. I didn't want to think about whether I'd somehow helped him get away with something. So, I did what kids do. I left. I wanted to forget about it. And my parents let me. I was worried about Mom, stuck there with Dad, but she promised me it was going to be fine, and said I should go and enjoy myself. So, I did. Because I was a teenager, and selfish, and scared."

​​

She wrung her hands again and breathed deeply a few times to get her heart to calm down. "I spent the next couple years basically ignoring the problem. I wasn't home to see it except for a few visits. And they played it down for me if I ever asked. I was excited to be studying journalism, and I was convinced I would do the work under a penname to figure out how to clear my dad's name and everything would get better. That was how I rationalized it to myself. Until my third year. I was home for Christmas and staying longer that year. Ten days, I think. And it was impossible to ignore.

"Dad was ultra-paranoid. He ranted all the time. It seemed like he rarely slept. And he'd put all kinds of crazy locks on the doors and stuff. It was like living in a jail and I was freaking out. I tried to ask my mother, but she wouldn't talk about it. Just said to wait it out and go back to school and I'd be fine. But that made me even more scared.

"A few days into that trip there was a night I couldn't sleep so I got up to go to the kitchen for a snack. But on the way I heard voices. Two voices—my father's, and another deeper one. They were hissing at each other, obviously angry. I couldn't catch all the words, but I gathered that the man had shown up without warning and Dad was angry. And then they were fighting and…" she shivered. "I heard the deeper voice say something about 'never see her again." I don't know if they meant me or my mother, but I could tell from the way dad reacted that they meant one of us. He got on the guy and I don't know exactly what happened between them, but a few seconds later there was a gunshot, and these terrible groans and noises—like, guttural, groaning noises I'd never heard before. Then there was another gunshot, and then things went quiet."

She swallowed. Then swallowed again.

"Oh, Lila, I'm so sorry."

She shook her head and didn't give him her hand when he tried to take it. "I freaked out," she whispered. "At first I was frozen. I thought my dad had just been murdered, but then I heard him swearing and sobbing and I knew. I knew. But I didn't want to know. I could hear my dad freaking out on the other side of the door. I should have gone to him and helped him or… something. I don't know. I just know I was a coward. I ran all the way back upstairs to my room and jumped in bed. I didn't sleep for the rest of the night, but I stayed in that room—even when one of my parents opened the door to see if I was there, I pretended I was asleep.

"All night I heard hushed panic. Tiptoeing footsteps, whispers, and… I don't know. Just, panic. I could feel it in the house. And the whole time I was thinking… Thinking… looking back on everything that had happened in the past ten years. Everything my father had done, everything he'd said, everything he'd had me do. And it was like my eyes got opened. I realized…" she turned and looked at Dane then, who watched her worriedly. "I realized that he wasn't a good man. He wasn't a good man at all. And that meant… that meant I'd been helping someone who was evil all this time. And I felt sick. There was a dead body in my house, and that was partly my fault for covering for the guy who'd pulled the trigger."

Dane blew out a breath. "Lila, you can't—"

"Let me finish please, because this is hard."

He nodded and she continued, her eyes closed as the memories played out in her head. "Things didn't get quiet until about seven in the morning. By that time I was full of righteous anger. I was going to do something about this! I was going to confront my father and convince him to confess. And that's how I'd be the hero. Right? But when I finally went downstairs… my parents just pretended everything was normal, but… it wasn't."

Dane sucked in. "Yeah, I've been there," he said, quietly.

"The thing that happened that day changed everything. And honestly I don't remember all the details. I think I kind of blocked it out. What I know is, I confronted my parents and my mother fell apart. But my dad… my dad turned into this person I'd never met. First he tried to lie to me about what had happened. But when I told him I was in the hallway and I heard it… he got really angry. Like… he shoved me around and I was terrified for a minute that he was going to kill me! I screamed and it was like this flip just switched in him. He fell apart. He was crying like a baby and pleading with me, telling me this terrible story about the pressure he'd been under, the way these people harassed and threatened him—and me and my mother, which I knew was true. And that's what swayed me. He got me thinking that he was a victim again, and I didn't even realize he was doing it. By the end, I was comforting him! And he'd gotten me to agree to talk to the journalists as much as I could and try to find out how much they knew and… it was just ugly. It was so ugly. It was all lies and manipulation and I was naïve and… ugh.

"But then my parents went right back to pretending nothing was wrong—even though now we've got Police showing up for interviews. I have to go to the station and I end up feeding them all the lies that my father fed me—and on top of that, I… I… make the Police think that the journalist had been inappropriate towards me. That I was uncomfortable around him… none of it was true.

"Then my school calls because my second semester fees haven't been paid so they aren't releasing my first semester finals, and when I try to talk to my dad about it he flips out on me. So I just… didn't go back. My roommate packed up my stuff for me and sent it. And I sat around at home and watched my dad… deflate.

"I start having anxiety, and I don't know why. I think I'm doing the right thing, but I can't sleep and I'm scared all the time. And I swear, I was watching my father die in front of me. It was like all the life got sucked out of him, one drop at a time. He just… shrank. And his eyes got bigger, and his mouth got wider, and he looked like a ghost.

"Then, there were official charges and meetings with lawyers—and of course, that puts everything out publicly. Because I'd been studying journalism, he asked me to help him figure out a press release. He said the lawyers always wanted him to say really dry, unemotional stuff and that he knew that didn't work. He wanted something that would connect with people. So, I drafted something up for him, and he was really happy with it.

"Over time, without realizing it, I end up running my dad's publicity. While he sits in his office and shrinks, I'm fielding phone calls and writing press releases, and making people believe things about him that aren't true, because I don't have the courage to tell him that I know they're untrue.

"I helped him," she croaked. "I helped him change people's minds about what kind of man he was—or at least, see him more sympathetically. I helped him cast doubt on the journalist. And I helped him keep people believing that he hadn't killed the guy. And I was making myself sick doing it, but by that time, I was so deep in it, I didn't know how to get out. And dad was wasting away. And my mother had dissolved into a bottle of pills."

Dane took her hand and she let him that time because this was the worst part.

"So, the only time I hear the Done Club mentioned during all this is the day my dad's lawyers for the criminal trial announce that they've discovered evidence that the man who'd been stalking my father and using violent threats was the same journalist who went missing. And, of course, not everyone believes this, but enough do… and I help them make it convincing."

She turned at looked at Dane until he met her gaze. "It turns out, Dane, that I'm not only an excellent liar, I'm also really, really good at manipulating people's emotions. I know what they need to hear to come on board with whatever I want. And I know how to make them feel like something is important…"

"I've noticed," he said with a small smile.

But she frowned and shook her head. "That's not a good thing when the person you're 'helping' is a killer."

They stared at each other and she swallowed hard.

*****

STOP! IF YOU'RE READING THIS AT THE END OF APRIL, DON'T GO ANY FURTHER UNTIL YOU HAVE READ THE VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE BELOW ABOUT THE END OF THIS STORY AND YOUR PURCHASES IN MAY: