Page 11

My legs give out and I sink to the floor, crying so hard I can barely breathe. The party has gone silent and everyone is staring at me, but I don't care. I just want it all to stop.

Lisa kneels beside me, wrapping her arms around me. "I'm calling Tammy," she says. "We're getting you out of here."

I nod, unable to speak through my tears. As Lisa makes the call, I hear murmurs around me. Some of pity, some of shock. The girls who were gossiping are crying too now, looking ashamed.

It feels like hours before Tammy arrives, though it's probably only minutes. She pushes through the crowd of teenagers, her face etched with worry.

"Oh, Clodagh," she says softly when she sees me. Without hesitation, she kneels down and gathers me in her arms.

"I'm sorry," I sob into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh," she soothes, stroking my hair. "It's okay. Let's get you home."

With Lisa's help, Tammy manages to get me to my feet. I'm still crying, but softer now, exhaustion setting in. As we make our way through the crowd, I hear whispers and see pitying looks. I close my eyes, leaning heavily on Tammy.

The cool night air hits me as we step outside, making me shiver. Tammy wraps her arm tighter around me as she guides me to the car. Lisa helps me into the backseat, then hesitates.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asks softly.

I shake my head. "No, it's okay. Thanks for calling Tammy."

Lisa nods, giving my hand a squeeze before shutting the car door. As Tammy starts driving, I lean my head against the window, watching the streetlights blur past.

"I met Emmanuel today," I say quietly after a few minutes of silence.

Tammy's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Jacob’s son?"

I nod though she can't see me. "He apologized. He said he could have stopped his father, but didn't."

Tammy is quiet for a moment. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"I thought I was getting better," I whisper, fresh tears falling. "But it all came crashing back. And then at the party, those girls were saying it was my fault?—"

"It was not your fault," Tammy says firmly. "None of it was your fault, Clodagh. You were a child."

We pull into our driveway, but neither of us move to get out of the car. Tammy turns in her seat to look at me.

"Clodagh, listen to me. What happened to you and your family was horrible. It was unfair and cruel and you didn't deserve any of it. But you survived. You're here, you're alive, and you're so much stronger than you know."

I meet her eyes, seeing the love and concern there. "I don't feel strong," I admit. "I feel broken."

Tammy reaches back and takes my hand. "Being broken doesn't mean you're not strong. It means you've been through something difficult and you're still here. We'll keep working on putting the pieces back together, for as long as it takes."

I nod, squeezing her hand. "I'm sorry for drinking," I say. "And for worrying you."

"I understand why you do it," Tammy says gently. "But maybe it's time we look at some other ways to cope? We can talk to Dr. Murphy about it at your next session."

The thought of facing my therapist after tonight makes me cringe, but I know Tammy's right. "Okay," I agree quietly.

We sit in silence for a moment longer before Tammy speaks again. "How about we go inside and get you into some comfy pajamas?”

I nod, feeling drained and hollow after the emotional roller coaster of the night. As we walk into the house, Tammy keeps her arm around me, steadying me.

Once inside, she guides me to my room. "Get changed, sweetheart. I'll make you some tea."

I change into my softest pajamas and wipe off my smeared makeup with a cloth. When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. My eyes are red and puffy, my face pale and drawn. I look as broken as I feel.

Tammy knocks softly before entering with a steaming mug. "Here you go, sweetheart. Chamomile with honey, just how you like it."

I take the mug, letting the warmth seep into my cold hands. "Thanks, Tammy."

She sits beside me on the bed, gently rubbing my back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I take a sip of tea, considering. "I don't know what to say," I admit. "Seeing Emmanuel... it brought everything back. And then those girls at the party..."

"Oh, Clodagh," Tammy sighs. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Those girls had no right to say those things."

I nod, tears welling up again. "I know it wasn't my fault. In my head, I know that. But sometimes... sometimes I can't help but wonder if things would have been different if?—"

"No," Tammy says firmly. "Don't go down that road, sweetheart. You can't change the past and torturing yourself with 'what ifs' won't help."

She's right, of course. But knowing something and feeling it are two different things.

"I thought I was getting better," I whisper. "But tonight... it feels like I'm right back where I started."

Tammy pulls me into a hug, careful not to spill my tea. "Healing isn't a straight line, Clodagh. There will be setbacks, bad days. But that doesn't erase all the progress you've made."

I lean into her embrace, letting her words wash over me. "I'm tired, Tammy. I'm so tired of carrying this."

"I know, sweetheart," she says softly. "But you're not carrying it alone. I'm here. Dr. Murphy is here. Lisa is here. We're all here to help you."

We sit in silence for a while, me sipping my tea and Tammy rubbing soothing circles on my back. Finally, I set the empty mug aside and lie down, suddenly exhausted.

Tammy tucks me in just like she did that first night I came to live with her. "Try to get some sleep," she says. "We'll talk more in the morning if you want."

As she turns to leave, I reach out and grab her hand. “Tammy?"

She turns back to me, her face soft with concern. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Thank you," I whisper. "For everything. For being here, for understanding. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Tammy's eyes fill with tears. She leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. "Oh, Clodagh. You don't have to thank me. You're my daughter now, in every way that matters. I love you, and I'll always be here for you."

Her words warm me from the inside out. For the first time since seeing Emmanuel, I feel a glimmer of hope. "I love you too," I say softly.

Tammy smiles, squeezing my hand. "Get some rest now. I'll be right down the hall if you need me."

As she leaves, turning off the light and closing the door softly behind her, I curl up under the covers.

The events of the day replay in my mind—Emmanuel's apology, the cruel words at the party, my breakdown.

But alongside those painful memories, I see Tammy's face. I hear her words of comfort and love.

I know the road ahead won't be easy. The trauma I've experienced doesn't just disappear overnight. But as I drift off to sleep, I hold on to the knowledge that I'm not alone. I have Tammy, I have Lisa, I have people who care about me and want to help me heal.

Tomorrow will be a new day. Maybe I'll talk to Dr. Murphy about what happened. Maybe I'll find healthier ways to cope with my pain. For now, though, I let myself be comforted by the safety of my room, the lingering warmth of Tammy's hug, and the promise of a fresh start in the morning.

As sleep finally claims me, my last conscious thought is a quiet determination. I survived the worst night of my life. I can survive this too. And maybe, just maybe, I can do more than survive. Maybe, with time and help, I can learn to truly live again.