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When Mara arches a brow, confused, I reward her with a level of trust I’ve never given anyone. “I found out recently that my stepfather groomed Karolina so well she believed it was possible for a forty-year-old man to fall in love with a ten-year-old child. She only learned differently when she walked in on him bathing Riley,theirtwo-year-old daughter.”
Mara’s calculations are quicker than the ones I undertook when my mother exploded this bombshell on me earlier thisweek, but instead of them fettering her face with worry, they fill it with remorse. “Ark… I’m so sorry.”
I continue before I lose the nerve. “The horrified look on Karolina’s face when she told our mother whathehad done to her is still burned in my retinas. She left no stone unturned during her confession. Years of abuse was spilled in under an hour.”
A sigh sinks my chest when Mara displays she is both beautiful and smart. “And your mother didn’t believe her.”
Even though she isn’t asking a question, I nod, too ashamed to speak.
The rope around my neck loosens enough for me to breathe when Mara moves closer, her eyes sympathetic. “But you did. You knew because a victim knows a victim.”
Again, I nod.
The way she can read me is astonishing.
She truly does have eyes that can see through to my soul.
“Who did you tell, Ark?”
Shockingly, I smile before breathing out slowly. “Rafael. And since I was too scared to tell, he told a lie that saw my stepfather sentenced to twenty years behind bars.” She smiles with me, making me believe I’m not insane when I confess, “Karolina hated us for it.”
“No, Ark.” Her brisk headshake fluffs up the scent I’m obsessed with. “She wouldn’t have. I promise you.”
I wish I could believe her, but I can’t. “She killed herself the day he was sentenced.”
I suck in a sharp, desperate breath when Mara says with the utmost confidence, “Because she thought it was the only way she could free Riley as unapologetically as you and Raf had freed her.” I shake my head. She either sees it and ignores it or misses it. “When a child is conceived from rape, you never stop worrying that you will push your hate onto them. That youwill never love them how they deserve to be loved.” I’m shocked when she confesses, “That’s why I had originally planned to put Tillie up for adoption. I didn’t believe love could be bred from hate.” A pained huff parts her lips. “Then I almost lost her in my third trimester. I’ve never looked back since, and I’ve loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her.”
Her story shows her strength.
Mine reveals I am a coward.
“I didn’t see love when I looked at Riley. I saw the pain in Karolina’s eyes when our mother slapped her and heard the words our mother screamed while accusing her of seducing her husband. I saw the evil I assumed they had bred into Riley because I was too busy hiding my own shame to do the math.” A mixture of sadness and anger bombards me. “Why didn’t Karolina tell me Riley was her daughter? Why did she keep that from me by pretending she attended an out-of-school art program?”
I’m not expecting an answer. How could someone outside my family give me one? But Mara hits the nail on the head for the second time today. “Because you believed the lies of your abuser.”
She isn’t speaking about the pedophile who raped my sister or the lady who scarred my skin and stole the hearing in my left ear. She is speaking about my mother. My heart knows this as well as my brain.
Too fearful that I’ll choke on a sob if I were to speak, I nod instead.
“I took so long to confess to someone outside the circle of my abuse because I believed their warnings of shame. They said I’d be ousted by my family and hated by everyone in the community.” There’s nothing but honesty in her tone. “If I had a brother, I probably would have kept my secret even longer than I did. Kids are meant to disappoint their parents. We’re meantto rebel. It is different for siblings. They don’t want to envy each other, but they do.” Ipfftoff her factual comment as if it is a lie. “I see it in Riley’s eyes every time she looks at you.”
God, I want to believe her. Even before I learned the truth, I was never the brother Riley deserved. I encouraged my mother to enroll her in boarding school and hid her from the world because it was easier to hide from the truth than contemplate its consequences.
I was an adult during Riley’s formative years. I should have been there for her as I was Karolina.
Mara leans deeper under the spray like the temperature isn’t freezing before asking, “Does Riley know Karolina is her mother?”
Even the shortness of my reply can’t hide how furious it makes me. “No.”
She smiles, thankful for my honesty, before asking, “Are you going to tell her?”
I don’t contemplate as long as I thought I would if asked this question. “Yes.Eventually.I just need to stop jumping through fiery hoops first. I’ve taken steps to do that, but they don’t seem like enough.”
The confused crinkle between Mara’s brows is back, and it makes her expression too cute to remember the seriousness of our conversation.
She slaps away my hand for the second time this morning before arching a brow, silently demanding for me to continue.
I do, albeit begrudgingly.