Page 76 of Blade

Now

Jolene and I stand side by side as images of that night emerge and begin to play. It’s all right there. Her father in the doorway, hitting me. Slapping her. Then her mother. Packing her clothes.

I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me sooner. This thread about Grace. I read the rest of the papers in her file—the reports from her first year of school. There are cycles of abuse within families. Violence can spread like a virus from one generation to the next.

She sees the questions on my face.

Did it spread to Grace? And is she now capable of murder?

“I did the best I could after that night,” Jolene says.

I don’t doubt this. Every parent I’ve seen—they all had good intentions.

“What happened after that night, Jo? I need to know—it could help Grace.”

I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake the story loose. Was Grace raised in the shadow of abuse? Was she abused herself, by her grandfather? Is that what I saw on her face in that video?

Jolene turns from me and walks to the window. There’s nothing to see but complete whiteout as she places both of her palms against the glass. Like she’s looking into a snow globe. Or maybe looking out, trapped inside.

“I did what my mother did,” she continues. “I saved her with skating, Ana. I know I did!”

Maybe it was already too late.

“What happened in kindergarten—the evaluation—do you think it could still be inside her? Enough rage to kill someone?”

These words sound crazy as they now sit between us. The child conceived sixteen years ago now a part of that story.Ourstory. Emile’s murder a new chapter.

Her face quivers. She wants to say no, but she can’t. I’ve been here before. It’s devastating to see what your own child might be capable of.

She looks at me with pleading eyes. “Do you?” she asks.

Yes.

The answer is part of my bible as a lawyer for violent children. Years of exposure to unpredictable rage can damage a child. Wire their brains to be hypervigilant. To always anticipate danger. Be prepared to fight at any moment. It can interrupt the development of empathy—and lack of empathy is the defining trait of sociopathic illness. There is so much controversy over the ability to rehabilitate. To fix the wires that were laid down in the early years.

Yes,I think. It could still be inside her.

But what matters now is that we keep Grace from getting charged with this crime.

“We have to explain why she asked to see Emile after that fight with Tammy Theisen,” I tell her. “That’s the missing piece to this puzzle.”

Jolene shakes her head. “Fucking Emile. He sent me to that clinic knowing they would turn me away. Giving my father enough time to get here.”

“Oh my God!” I say, having a sudden thought sparked by the memories of the day we went to the clinic.

“Shannon Finch told me that she heard Tammy say something to Grace after the fight. When the video had stopped. She told Grace to ask Emile. That he knew the truth.” I try to explain where this thought has taken me. “We’ve been assuming it was about Emile’s move to California—but what if it wasn’t?”

Jolene’s eyes light up. “The clinic!” she says. “Tammy knew—that’s what she must have told Grace. That I tried to terminate the pregnancy ... oh God!”

“How would Tammy Theisen know about that?” I ask. “I never told anyone.”

Jolene rises from the couch and begins to pace the room. “Neither did I,” she says. “It was just you, me, and Emile.”

Then, suddenly, I have the answer.

“Shannon Finch,” I tell her. “It was Mrs. Finch who knew about Kayla—when we took her to the clinic after the rape. That’s why she attacked her in the bleachers that day—Shannon told me and Artis the whole story. If Shannon and her mother knew about Kayla, she could have known that you went there too. I don’t know how, but that has to be it.”

Jolene stops walking. Her face streaks red, and her eyes become wide and dark.