Page 32 of The Secrets We Hide
“No,” Talia said. “Mom, obviously not.”
“Nothing is obvious,” Valerie insisted. “You never told me any of this. Mandy’s hanging out with a grown man, doing drugs, skipping school, lying to her mother?”
“God, Mom. Mandy’s probably gonna die and you’re worried we smoked some weed?”
“Weed?” Valerie’s voice trilled up. “When did you start smoking weed?”
“Jesus!”
Emmy was helpless to stop the girl when she pushed herself up from the couch and stomped down the hallway.
“Talia!” Valerie had stood, too. She threw her hands into the air in frustration. She asked Emmy, “Should I have her tested for drugs? What if she’s doing fentanyl?”
Emmy wasn’t going to weigh in. “Do you mind answering some questions for me about Mandy?”
“I don’t think I know anything about her.” Valerie sat back down. She was clearly still angry. “Mandy’s practically lived here since the first grade. Apparently, she’s been putting on an act this entire time.”
“Valerie, Mandy’s still a child. Does it really matter if she skipped school and lied to her mother? My jail would be full if I went after every kid in town who made a stupid mistake.”
Valerie shook her head. The anger was gone. Now there was only self-recrimination. “What did I miss?”
“If you’re like me, you missed everything. Teenagers hide stuff from their parents. It’s a rite of passage. Normally, it doesn’t matter. This time, it does.”
Valerie let her head fall into her hand. “I’m not sure I can add anything to what Talia’s already told you.”
“Did you notice a change in Mandy lately?”
She was obviously about to say no, but then she stopped herself. “Actually, she seemed lighter lately. More like she was before Bill came into the picture.”
Emmy gave her time to think.
“Mandy was effervescent as a child. So funny and light. The first time Talia brought her home, I was delighted. She was just such a beautiful, sweet girl.”
Emmy knew there was a second part.
“And then things started getting serious between Allison and Bill and—” Valerie huffed out a breath. “I didn’t put it together at the time, but I’ve been reading these posts online about people seeing Allison with a black eye or a cut lip. She’d say it happened at work, but I don’t think that’s true. It makes sense that Mandy changed, especially when they all moved in together. I guess that was six years ago? She became quieter, more introspective. I thought it was tween stuff. Talia was a handful at that age, believe me. Moody and angry one minute, happy and excited the next. But Mandy’s swings were darker, more serious. I should’ve noticed, but I didn’t.”
Emmy knew how easy it was to miss things. “Did Mandy ever confide in you about anything?”
“No, she was very hesitant to open up. Now that I know what was happening at home, I understand why. She neverinvited Talia to sleep overnight once they moved in with Bill. I should’ve seen that something was off.”
“Did you ever have any conversations with Mandy?”
She chewed her lip. “It was always very superficial—How’s school? What are you enjoying? What are you reading?We never talked about anything deeper than that.”
“What about Allison? Did you know her very well?”
“We were mom friends, but her world was so different from mine. I look at spreadsheets all day. She chases bad guys. Or at least she used to. I heard she’s been doing private investigator stuff since she retired, but it’s been years since I’ve had a real sit-down with her. I’m a single mother with a mortgage. I have to triage my time.”
Emmy knew exactly what she meant. “You said that you asked Mandy about school. Did she ever talk about teachers she liked? Maybe she confided in one of them.”
“She never mentioned anyone. I know that Talia loves your brother, Tommy. She was in his advanced history class before he retired to take care of your—oh, no—” Valerie’s hand fluttered to her heart. She looked aghast. “Your mother’s funeral was today.”
The piece of glass lodged itself back in Emmy’s throat.
“I’m so sorry. With all that’s happened, I had forgotten.”
Emmy worked to keep her expression neutral, but the wrongness flowed back into her body. She had forgotten her own mother’s funeral, too. “Thank you.”
