“It’s not the type of thing anyone would forget. Noah never will. Natalie never did.” Her voice changed, the implication in her words chilling. “Natalie was molested—raped—inside the restroom at the park just down the street.”
My cup clattered against the saucer. I blinked into the dark contents, struggling to grasp the knowledge she’d given me. “Noah never told me . . . he never even hinted at . . .”
“He held himself responsible for what happened to Natalie. God knows he still does.” Sue took a sip of her tea, eyes flooded with shadows of the past. “He was meeting some friends at the park to play basketball and Natalie begged him to let her come too. I was busy unloading groceries and trying to get dinner ready after work and too distracted to consider suggesting she help me peel the potatoes or whip up some brownies for dessert. He caved, as usual, and let her tag along. It wasn’t the first time she’d made a third-wheel of herself. We’d all been to that park hundreds of times leading up to that afternoon. Hundreds.”
My throat burned when I noticed the shine her eyes took on, the struggle it was to keep herself composed.
“Natalie needed to go to the bathroom, and Noah gave her permission to go by herself—the boys were playing ball less than a hundred feet away. Noah usually waited outside the restroom for her, but she was at an age where she was pushing for more independence and Noah was lured into the same illusion of safety we all were.”
Sue absently added a spoonful of sugar to her tea, then another a moment later. As long as I’d known her, I’d never once seen her add sweetener to her drinks.
“Ten minutes went by, maybe fifteen, before Noah realized Natalie wasn’t back from the restroom. It was quiet that day, only he and his friends and a couple of moms pushing strollers around the park, so he shoved right into the women’s side of the bathrooms.” When her teacup clattered against the saucer, she let go of the handle. I fought the bile rising up my throat. “He walked in on . . . he saw what that man was doing . . .”
My hands splayed along the countertop as a sensation of spinning overwhelmed me.
“Noah apparently flew into a rage, ripping the man off of her and beating him within an inch of his life before the attacker managed to escape. When the two of them showed up on my doorstep, Noah was covered in blood, carrying Natalie, his jacket draped around her. She wasn’t crying. Her eyes weren’t even vacant like his—they were dead.” Sue managed another sip of her tea before dumping the rest down the drain. “My golden ray of sunshine never shown another glimmer of light after that day, and my brooding boy never forgave himself for what happened. Their physical bodies endured, but their souls were gone. I lost both of my children in one afternoon.”
I pushed my tea aside as well. “God, Sue. I can’t imagine . . .”
“No one can. No one should.” She plucked a tissue from the box at the end of the counter, folding it in her hands.
“Did they catch him?” I whispered.
“Eventually. Years later.” Her tone sharpened. “After he molested and raped three other young girls.”
We shared a long exhale that echoed hopelessness.
“Natalie couldn’t remember so much as the color of the man’s hair following the attack. She had what the psychiatrists labeled disassociative trauma. Basically, she’d experienced such a severe shock, the only way for her brain to function was to block it out.”
“I see that a lot in similar cases I’ve worked.”
“Noah managed to put together a more definitive description for a sketch artist, but it never led to any plausible suspects or arrests.” Sue tucked the tissue into the pocket of her slacks and got back to wiping at the counter. “When the man was arrested and charged with the rapes of three girls a decade later, Natalie saw him on the news and everything came rushing back. She regressed, waking up screaming from nightmares, sleeping with all of the lights on, refusing to go out in public for weeks at a time. It was as if the rape had happened all over again a decade later, but this time, she never managed to put any of the pieces back together. She killed herself on the same day she’d been raped, inside the same restroom at the park a few blocks away. The only thing her note read was that she’d died a long time ago, but now she was finally at peace.”
The lump in my throat was excruciating. I now understood why such a talented, beautiful girl had carried so much sadness.
“I’m sorry you’re hearing this from me instead of Noah. I’m sure he had his reasons for keeping what happened to Natalie a secret from you.” Sue flashed me a sympathetic smile.
“It’s kind of a relief to know. Why Natalie was the way she was—why Noah is the way he is. It’s easier to understand when you have the whole picture.” I wet my lips. “I’m sorry, Sue. So damn sorry.”
“We’ve all paid for that afternoon, for what that man did. The innocent suffer, and the guilty go free.”
“Not all of them go free. I prosecute and put away plenty of men like the one who hurt Natalie,” I replied.
“And how many of them go free? How many of them serve sentences anywhere close to fitting the lifetime sentence they forced upon their victims?” Sue’s gentle voice quivered, her effect remaining flat.
I nodded. “Too many.”
“This monster had gotten out on good behavior from a previous molestation charge days before he attacked Natalie. He should have been in prison. Good behavior? What about the behavior he exhibited that wound him up in prison? What about the behavior they revert back to when they’re released?” She touched the thin gold chain around her neck, where an oval locket hung, worrying at the chain as though it were an old friend. “We’ve put man on the moon and cloned a mammal and we still can’t figure out a way to protect our children.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself desperate for a distraction.
“You want to help me water the garden?” Sue sniffed as she moved toward the slider leading out back. “I was in the middle of it when you arrived, and my busy bone is throbbing with all of this standing still.”
I set down my cup and followed her. “You’re not the only one who keeps busy to stay distracted.”
She plopped a giant sunhat on her head and slid into a pair of gardening shoes, waiting for me at the slider.
“You must have been surprised when you found out what career field Noah decided to go into,” I said, exchanging my flats for the extra pair of lime green garden shoes she set aside for me. We walked outside together.
“I was,” she replied, adjusting the dial on the hose nozzle so it was a gentle mist. “Then I realized it was his way of coping with what happened to Natalie. His father coped by drinking, me with my endless projects, and Noah by trying to fix the type of person who killed his sister.”
Sue’s back was to me, but she must have anticipated the questioning patina my face took on.
“I didn’t use the wrong word,” she continued. “That man killed my daughter. His hands might not have held the knife that cut open her wrists, but he was the instrument of her demise. He destroyed her when he forced himself on that beautiful child.”
I grabbed a full watering can situated on the patio and sprinkled the potted plants while she started with the beds.