Chapter 11 - A Door Slams
The call ended. I turned the car around and drove toward my parents' house, then stopped halfway there. Racing to rescue Vanessa was exactly what Grant expected. Instead, I texted her: If you feel unsafe, go somewhere public and call for help. I won't meet Grant alone. I can pick you up if you ask.
She didn't respond.
At six, Dad called. Vanessa had arrived at the house carrying an overnight bag. Grant had accused her of betraying him and demanded access to her phone. She'd left while he was in the shower.
I drove over. Mom met me at the door with red eyes. “She's devastated. Please don't lecture her.”
“I'm here because she asked me to come,” I said. It was only partly true. Dad had asked, but Vanessa had texted yes afterward.
I found my sister on the back steps. She wore a sweatshirt from college and no makeup. For a minute, I saw the girl who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded and shook her head at the same time. “He said he can't trust me anymore.”
“Do you trust him?”
She stared at the yard. “I don't know.”
I sat two steps away. Close enough to talk. Not close enough to pretend everything was normal.
“Grant told me the party would impress his investors,” she said finally. “He said if they saw he could host something like that, they'd invest more. I thought it sounded ridiculous.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you would've asked questions. He said you always make me feel small.”
That hurt more than I expected. “Have I ever told you not to be happy?”
“No.”
“Have I ever asked you to be less successful?”
“No.”
“Then maybe he needed you to think my questions were the problem.”
She rubbed her face. “He told me the event was already paid for. That your deposit was just a formality.”
I watched a porch light blink on across the street. “Vanessa, were you the one who sent the reinstatement email?”
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
May you like
Her lower lip trembled.
“I saw Grant send it,” she said. “And I saw what he attached.”
