Chapter 8: The Sister I Defended
The message from Rachel stayed on my screen for hours.
Not because it was threatening.
Because it wasn't.
That was what made it worse.
Rachel had always been good at making herself sound reasonable.
She never said:
"I'm going to hurt you.""
She said:
"You're misunderstanding me.""
She never said:
"I don't care about your feelings.""
She said:
"You don't understand what I'm going through.""
She turned everything into confusion.
And confusion was where she was strongest.
That night, Marcus locked the front door twice.
I noticed.
"You think she would come here?""
He looked at me.
"I think I don't know what she's capable of anymore.""
The answer hurt.
Because I didn't know either.
Before Rachel kicked me, I would have laughed at the idea of being afraid of my own sister.
Now I checked the windows before going to sleep.
The next morning, my mother called.
I almost ignored it.
But something made me answer.
"Claire.""
Her voice sounded exhausted.
"What happened?""
"What do you mean?""
"Rachel knows about Vanessa.""
There was silence.
Then my mother's breathing changed.
"Who told you?""
I froze.
"Mom.""
"No, I mean...""
She stopped.
And I realized something.
She wasn't surprised.
She was worried.
"You knew about Vanessa?""
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"Mom?""
Finally, she said:
"Rachel told us there was someone trying to ruin her.""
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Of course she had.
"Did you believe her?""
My mother didn't answer.
That was the answer.
I felt something break inside me.
Not anger.
Something deeper.
Disappointment.
"You all knew there was another side to her.""
"Claire—"
"No.""
My voice shook.
"You knew.""
"We didn't know everything.""
"But you knew enough.""
My mother started crying.
"We were trying to protect her.""
I looked down at my stomach.
"Who was protecting me?""
She had no answer.
After I hung up, I sat quietly for a long time.
Marcus came over.
"You okay?""
I laughed softly.
It wasn't a happy sound.
"I don't know anymore.""
He sat beside me.
"You don't have to figure everything out today.""
But I did.
Because my family had spent years protecting Rachel from consequences.
And consequences were the only thing she seemed to understand.
Later that afternoon, I received an email.
From Rachel.
Not a text.
An email.
The subject line:
The truth you deserve.
I almost deleted it.
But curiosity won.
The message was long.
Rachel apologized.
She said she had been struggling.
She said losing her job had destroyed her confidence.
She said seeing everyone celebrate my pregnancy made her feel invisible.
Then came the sentence that made my hands shake.
I know what I did was wrong, but you need to understand that I felt abandoned.
I stared at the screen.
There it was.
The excuse.
Hidden inside an apology.
I kept reading.
You have always been the lucky one, Claire.
Lucky.
The word burned.
Was that what she thought?
That my life had been easy?
That my marriage had happened without fear?
That my baby had come without years of heartbreak?
She didn't know about the nights Marcus and I cried.
She didn't know about the doctor appointments.
She didn't know how many times I thought I might never become a mother.
But Rachel had never been interested in my pain.
Only my happiness.
Because my happiness reminded her of what she wanted.
The final line of her email made my blood run cold.
I hope one day you understand why I did what I did.
Not:
I hope you forgive me.
Not:
I hope Emma is okay.
Why I did what I did.
Like there was a reason.
Like there was a justification.
I closed the laptop.
Then Vanessa sent another message.
A photo.
I opened it.
And my entire body went still.
It was Rachel.
Standing outside my parents' house.
The day before the cookout.
Talking to my father.
The caption from Vanessa was simple.
I don't think she went there to apologize.
I think she went there to make sure everyone chose her side.
I stared at the picture.
May you like
Because now I had another question.
What had Rachel told my parents before she attacked me?
