Page 12

ELEVEN

clodagh

“I’m proud of you, Clodagh,” Tammy says with a smile. “I know it can’t have been easy seeing Dr. Murphy today, but you did it.”

I nod, glancing out of the passenger side window of Tammy’s car. The session with Dr. Murphy was intense. I had to talk about my encounter with Emmanuel and the breakdown at the party. I feel drained, but also oddly lighter.

"It wasn't easy," I admit. "But... I think it helped. Dr. Murphy said something that really stuck with me."

Tammy turns to face me, her expression soft and filled with love and concern. "What was that, sweetheart?"

I take a deep breath. "She said that healing doesn't mean the damage never existed. It means the damage no longer controls my life."

Tammy's eyes soften. "That's very true. And very wise."

"I've been thinking about it," I continue. "It’s going to be hard, but I know my parents would want me to heal from this."

"I'm so proud of you, Clodagh. So, so proud. And I know your parents and Dylan would be too."

As always at the mention of my family, I feel a pang in my chest. But it's not as sharp as it used to be. Instead, there's a bittersweet warmth. "I hope so," I whisper. "Tammy, thank you. For everything. For being here, for supporting me, for... for loving me."

Tammy reaches over and squeezes my hand. "Oh, sweetheart, loving you is the easiest thing in the world. You're an incredible young woman, and I'm so grateful to have you in my life."

“There was something else that Dr. Murphy said but I’m not sure how to react.”

Her hand tightens around mine. “Tell me,”she encourages me.

“According to Dr. Murphy, Emmanuel was only sixteen years old when his father murdered my family and abducted me. He was just a child in a helpless situation, and while I have every right to feel angry and hurt, I shouldn't hold any hatred toward someone who was as powerless as I was.” I sigh. She’s right, but damn.

.. I need someone else to hate, someone else to blame, and Emmanuel was the perfect person to do so.

Tammy is quiet for a moment, considering my words. "That's a lot to process," she says gently. "How do you feel about what Dr. Murphy said?"

I stare out the window, watching the familiar streets of our neighborhood pass by. "I don't know," I admit. "Part of me understands what she's saying. Emmanuel was just a kid too, caught in a terrible situation. But another part of me..."

"Is still angry?" Tammy finishes for me.

I nod. "Yeah. I mean, he was older than me. He knew what his father was like. Maybe he couldn't have stopped everything, but he could have done something, right?"

Tammy sighs. "It's a complicated situation, Clodagh. And your feelings about it are valid, all of them. The anger, the confusion, the hurt—it's all okay to feel."

We pull into Orna’s driveway, but neither of us moves to get out of the car. Tammy turns to face me fully.

"Sweetheart, forgiveness isn't something that happens overnight. And it's not something you owe to anyone, not even Emmanuel. It's a process, and it's okay if you're not there yet, or if you never get there."

I feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "But what if holding on to this anger is holding me back? What if it's stopping me from healing?"

Tammy reaches out and cups my cheek gently. "Healing isn't about forgetting or pretending the hurt never happened. It's about learning to live with it, to not let it control your life. And that takes time."

I lean into her touch, feeling the comfort and safety she always provides. "I just want to be okay," I whisper.

"Oh, Clodagh," Tammy says, pulling me into a hug across the center console. "You will be. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but you will be. And I'll be here every step of the way."

“Now,” Tammy says after a few minutes, “Orna said that Lisa’s grounded for what happened last night. But she’s allowed to see you. So let’s go and see what’s happened.”

My brows knit together. What happened after I left? Why is Lisa grounded?

Entering Orna’s home, I spot Lisa sitting on the sofa. There’s a cut just above her eye, not to mention bruising on her cheek. “What the hell happened?”

“She got into a fight,” Orna says in a disapproving tone. “Now I do not condone violence, not in the slightest, but Lisa explained what happened last night and while violence isn’t the answer, I’m not exactly angry about it.”

“Someone, please tell me what happened?” I ask.

Lisa looks up at me, her expression a mixture of defiance and concern. "After you left last night, those girls were still running their mouths, saying awful things about you and about what happened to your family. I couldn't just stand there and let them talk about you like that."

My eyes widen as I realize what she's saying. "Lisa, you didn't..."

She shrugs, wincing slightly at the movement. "I did. I told them to shut their mouths about things they don't understand. When they wouldn't stop, I... well, I shut them up myself."

I sink down onto the couch next to her, my mind reeling. "You got into a fight for me?"

Lisa nods, a small smile playing on her lips despite her injuries. "Of course I did. You're my best friend, Clodagh. I wasn't about to let those bitches keep spreading lies about you."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes. I’m overwhelmed by Lisa's loyalty. "You didn't have to do that," I whisper.

"I know," she says, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "But I wanted to. You've been through enough, Clodagh. You don't deserve to have people talking crap about you on top of everything else."

Orna clears her throat, reminding us of the adults' presence. "While I understand Lisa's motivations, violence is never the answer. That's why she's grounded for the next two weeks."

Lisa rolls her eyes but doesn't argue. I can tell she thinks it was worth it.

"Thank you," I say softly to Lisa. "For standing up for me. But please don't get yourself hurt on my account again, okay?"

She grins, bumping her shoulder against mine. "No promises. That's what friends are for, right?"

I laugh softly, feeling a warmth in my chest that I haven't felt in a long time. Despite everything that's happened, I realize I'm not alone. I have Tammy, I have Lisa, I have people who care about me and are willing to fight for me—literally, in Lisa's case.

“Are you okay?” Lisa asks a few hours later. We’re sitting on her bed while Tammy and Orna are talking downstairs.

“I’m okay. Yesterday was...” I pause, trying to find the right words.

"You finally breaking. It's been a long time coming," Lisa finishes for me.

I nod, feeling tears pricking at my eyes again. "Yeah, I guess it was. I've been trying so hard to be okay, to pretend that everything's fine. But seeing him yesterday, it just brought everything back."

Lisa reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. "You don't have to pretend with me, Clodagh. You know that, right? It's okay to not be okay sometimes."

I look at her, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. "I know. It's just... I'm tired of being the girl whose family was murdered. I'm tired of people looking at me with pity or whispering about me behind my back."

"Those people don't matter," Lisa says firmly. "The ones who really care about you—me, Tammy, Orna—we don't see you as just that girl. We see you, Clodagh. All of you."

Her words touch something deep inside me, and I feel myself starting to cry again. Lisa pulls me into a hug, and I let myself lean into her, drawing comfort from her presence.

"I met Emmanuel yesterday," I say quietly after a few minutes. "Before the party."

Lisa pulls back, her eyes wide with surprise. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrug. "I didn't know how to process it. He... he apologized. He said he could have stopped his father, but didn't."

Lisa's expression hardens. "That bastard. How dare he show his face to you after all this time?"

"Dr. Murphy says I shouldn't hate him," I admit. "She says he was just a kid too, caught in a terrible situation."

Lisa is quiet for a moment, considering this. "Maybe," she says finally. "But that doesn't mean you have to forgive him or be okay with what happened."

I nod, grateful for her understanding. "I don't know how to feel about it. Part of me is still so angry, but another part... I don't know. I'm just tired of carrying all this hate and pain around."

"That's okay too," Lisa says. "You don't have to have it all figured out right now. And whatever you feel, it's valid."

We sit in comfortable silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Lisa speaks again.

"You know, Clodagh, you're the strongest person I know. After everything you've been through, you're still here. Still fighting. That's pretty amazing."

Her words warm me, and I feel a small smile tugging at my lips. "I don't feel very strong most of the time."

"But you are," Lisa insists. "Every day you get up and face the world. That's strength. And I'm proud to be your friend."

“Stop,” I whisper. “You’ll make me cry again.”

She nudges my shoulder with hers.

"So, I'm grounded for two weeks, which means you'll have to come visit me here if you want to hang out," Lisa says with a grin. "Maybe we can have a movie marathon or something?"

I nod, grateful for the change of subject. "That sounds good. We can catch up on all those films we've been meaning to watch."

"Perfect," Lisa says. "And hey, no alcohol involved. Orna lost her mind last night. She’s claiming I’m giving her grey hairs."

I feel a pang of guilt, remembering how our drinking has escalated lately. "Yeah, you're right. Dr. Murphy suggested I try journaling or art therapy. Maybe we could do something like that together?"

Lisa's eyes light up. "Ooh, art therapy sounds fun. You could get some canvases and paint, make a mess in the backyard. I’m sure Tammy wouldn't mind as long as you clean up after yourself."

For the first time in days, I feel a genuine smile spread across my face. "I need something constructive to do," I tell her softly. “Maybe art therapy is the way to go.”

Just then, we hear Tammy calling from downstairs. "Clodagh, sweetheart? It's time to head home."

I stand up, feeling lighter than I have in a long time. "Thanks, Lisa. For everything. You're a great friend."

Lisa pulls me into another hug. "Right back at you. And remember, I'm always here if you need to talk. Or if you need someone to punch a bitch for you."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Let's try to avoid any more punching, okay?"

Tammy smiles at me as we reach the bottom of the stairs. "Ready to go home, sweetheart?"

I nod, feeling a warmth in my chest at the word 'home'. Because that's what Tammy's house has become for me—a home. A safe place where I can heal, where I can be myself, where I can slowly learn to live again.

As we drive home, I look out the window at the setting sun. Tomorrow is a new day, a chance to keep moving forward. And for the first time in a long time, I find myself looking forward to it.