“No, it has to be you. Lily is your mother, and you’re the one most interested in protecting her. I know you don’t want her to go to prison.”
“So, you believe she…killed Amber?” I had to speak the last two words extra slowly so I didn’t stutter again. Until yesterday, that hadn’t happened to me in years, and my father would only see it as yet another weakness.
“I don’t know, but I do believe it’s possible.”
I wanted to bring up Green Industries but decided now wasn’t the time. I’d made Thea a promise that I wouldn’t tell him what we’d discovered, and even though I wasn’t sure it mattered anymore, I could at least keep that promise.
“That’s why you’ve kept her close for all of these years, isn’t it? You were worried she’d killed Amber, and you wanted to keep an eye on her.”
It made so much sense, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. Dad had never really explained his decision to build the cottage for my mother. But he wouldn’t have done so without a good reason, especially since they didn’t get along.
“Yes.”
Honesty, for once. That was something, I guess.
“Did you know she drinks poppy seed tea to get high?” I asked.
She’d been drinking tea right in front of me for years, and it had never once occurred to me that it was anything other than herbal—or black, if she was feeling frisky. Then, yesterday, I’d watched her use water that she’d clearly been soaking the seeds in to heat. It hadn’t made sense until I’d researched it later and discovered it was a way to get opium in her system.
I wouldn’t be allowed to see her for at least a couple of weeks, since the detox would take time. Which was probably for the best. I needed some separation. Needed time to think and figure this out.
“I knew that she’d been self-medicating, yes,” he answered. “Doing so with poppy seeds seemed like the least harmful of the options.”
“So, what? Instead of getting her the help she needed, you shut her up in her cottage and sat by while she got addicted to opium?”
“Don’t you think I tried to get her help? Goddammit, Hayle, I spent our entire marriage trying to get her help. She wouldn’t listen. She refuses to accept that there’s anything wrong with her.”
“So, there is something wrong with her.” It was a statement rather than a question, because I’d known for a long time. But no one ever spoke of it out loud. The few comments I’d made to Thea were the closest I’d come until now.
“I’m not a psychiatrist, but, yes. I believe she has borderline personality disorder. The signs are all there—risky behavior, abusing drugs, fear of abandonment, paranoia. It fits.”
Fuck. He was serious.
My stomach churned as little pieces from the past slid into focus. Times she’d driven too fast on busy highways and only laughed when I’d asked her to slow down. All the times she’d begged me to come over. To stay with her. To never leave her. Hell, I even remembered a time when she’d pulled over in a rainstorm and made me dance in the middle of the street with her. I couldn’t have been more than six or seven at the time, and I’d cried as I watched cars swerve to avoid hitting us.
She wasn’t merely fun-loving and free. She was ill.
Yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to fully accept that she could hurt anyone. Did that mean I’d inherited her mental illness? Otherwise, how had I been able to ignore the signs for all of these years?
I was supposed to be the smart one. Ha.
“So, you’re going to talk to Thea?” Dad asked with a gentleness to his voice I rarely heard. It should have soothed me, but I could see past his faux concern to the scheming underneath. He was using me to protect himself.
In that moment, a switch finally flipped. I pulled back the curtain and saw my father for who he truly was. He wasn’t some larger-than-life figure who ruled the world around him with his natural charisma. Despite his height, he was small, manipulating everyone in his orbit until they believed they had no choice but to follow his orders.
He was scared.
He was powerless.
He was a fraud.
And I wasn’t going to fall for his tactics anymore.
“I’ll talk to Thea, but I want something in return.”
His eyes brightened with what I recognized as respect. He liked that I