“It wasn’t like that!” she defends, frustration etched on her beautiful face. “It wasn’t like that at all.”
“What was it like then, Nicky?” I whisper. “Because we’ve been here for two weeks. Sure, we don’t belong here, but you’ve been as tight-lipped as a professional instead of talking to me about everything! And now you want answers?”
“Mia, I—”
“If you wanted to talk, like really talk, you could’ve come clean than let me wander from room to room of this ghost house, wondering why me,” I seethe, turning around to look at her and she reels back when she sees the look on my face. “How about you tell me why you let everything that happened to me, happen?”
“Mia…”
“Yes, that. Let’s start with my name! You’re the one who named me Amy, didn’t you?” I whisper, my body trembling.
Nicky’s eyes flood with tears but she doesn’t look away as she nods.
“Yes. I did.”
“So how did I become this?” I snap.
Tears start running down her beautiful face. I stand there stoically, pretending like I’m not a shudder away from folding into a ball and crying myself a river I’d gladly drown in.
“I tried,” she whispers brokenly. “In those first days and weeks, I tried to help you remember me, but each time I did, Nathan would find out somehow and when he did, he’d…” she trails off, her body now shaking like a leaf in a storm. In my mind, I see her lying on the floor, palming her cheek the day she told me to run. Did Nathan hurt her even then too?
“What did he do?” I whisper.
“Well, let’s just say that jerk has always had a penchant for violence. But I wanted to brave it out for you, even if it meant suffering, at least then I’d be close to my baby girl.”
“So, what happened?”
“The violence in that house… it was too much, even for you. You were a sensitive kid then and even more so now. When Nathan would… well, you could somehow feel it. You’d scream in the middle of the night and then one night, he made you sit there and watch as he ‘taught me a lesson’.” A lone tear trails down her beautiful face. “Well, let’s just say there’s no way I was going to let that jerk teach you that it’s okay to hit and abuse women, and Nancy, well, he kept her close for something else.”
To taunt and mock his brother.
“You have to understand Mia, you were my light. You still are. You are the reason I’ve kept on fighting.”
“It didn’t seem like it when you threw me in the trash.”
“No, baby, no. I didn’t throw you away. It’s just…” she trails off. I wait for her to explain, but tears keep rushing down her face, her eyes now dim with remembered pain.
I visibly tremble, then hug myself as the pressure weighing on my chest intensifies, making it hard to breathe.
“Either way, you were my mother,” I croak, the lump in my throat getting bigger. “When he bashed me across the head, you should’ve helped me remember.”
“Oh baby, you didn’t want to remember.”
What?
I stare at her, blinking like a cartoon character. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like I mentioned before. You chose to forget. Or rather, your subconscious made the decision for you, choosing to protect you from the truth because the trauma…” she chokes off, now crying in earnest, “it was just too much. What he did… it was too much.”
I stare at her for a long moment, reading between the obvious, thick lines.
So, with a heavy weight pressing down my chest, I ask what I already know. “He hurt me, didn’t he?” I whisper. Nancy looks away but her silence, it speaks volumes, so I go on, “He hurt me more than once?”
She looks up then, but she doesn’t look me in the eye.
“Didn’t he?”
“Nancy and I… we fought him. We told you the truth over and over again and you picked up on it. You called me your mom and Nancy your aunt, but that bastard quickly realized that the best way to control us was to hurt you. And then soon enough, I have no idea how you did it or how you could’ve known, but after that whenever he told you things, you just accepted them. When he told you to do something, you just did it.”
And there it is. The confirmation I was dreading and hoping not to be true.
“He used me a lot then?”
“Yes,” she croaks.
My heart shatters all over again, but I have to ask just one more question.
“He used me to get information on Aiden Fitzgerald which I then… I outed to the tabloids?”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“True or not true? Was it him or am I just a devious, heartless piece of shit?”
“Don’t you ever say that! You are none of that! You’re strong, beautiful, intelligent and you care, Mia, you care a lot more than you realize.”
I look away.
“Nicky, please just answer.”
Silence. And then, “He made you do it.”
I stare at her mutely.
“Is that why you stayed away then?” I whisper. “You hardly visited all those years. You never stayed for longer than two days or three. Always disappearing to God knows where.”
“Mia, sweetheart, I knew if I stayed, the tension would only get worse between Nathan and me. As it was Nancy… well, she was so close to murdering that sonofabitch, but we both knew you were all that mattered. So, we kept with it.”
Wow. Just like that, huh?
“Okay,” I mutter, turning away.
“Okay?” she whispers, and I shrug, I have no idea what she was expecting, but what else can I say to that mess?
“Yes. I need to go. Don’t want to be late for my first day of senior year,” I say, keeping my voice level as I turn away to read the text on my phone.
Cole: It’s not looking good. The trial is still on. I’m sorry Mia. Maybe your testimony can help? I don’t know anymore.
A shudder goes down my spine as I read the text over and over again, my heart sinking as dread cements in the pit of my stomach. Me testifying is completely out of the question. Nathan would never allow it. I have to take care of this another way. I text him back.
Me: Meet me in five minutes at this location.
“I want you to open up, Mia. I feel like you’re in something deep and you’re shutting me out because you got hurt so bad.” Nicky steps forward. “I want to help you.”
“There’s nothing to help.” Honestly, there’s nothing she can do.
“But you’re just—”
“Please don’t insult both of us by saying I’m just a child. A few months ago, I was a normal kid taking care of her then dying mother. The next thing I knew, you came back and moved us into the Fitzgerald mansion not bothering to check with me fully if I was okay with it—and even then, you had ample opportunities to come clean that you were my biological mother, but you didn’t and then all hell broke loose that I had to deal with. My amnesia. The fact that my father is a piece of shit who you were engaged to. That Nancy married that asshole just to spite John who then became your fiancé for some fucked up reason that you still haven’t explained—”