“Don’t listen to them!” my father shouted, struggling against the bikers holding him. “They’re lying! They’re criminals! Emily, tell them they’re lying!”
I looked at my father. The man who’d tucked me in at night and then come back when everyone was asleep. The man who’d threatened to kill my mother if I ever told. The man who’d made me believe I was dirty, broken, worthless.
“Emily,” my mother said, her voice trembling. “What are they talking about? What happened?”
I closed my eyes. Fifteen years of silence pressed against my chest like a boulder.
And then something broke.
“It’s true.” My voice came out as a whisper. Then stronger. “It’s true. From when I was eight until I was thirteen. Every time Mom worked night shifts. He’d come to my room and—”
“SHUT UP!” my father roared. “She’s lying! She’s always been a liar! You know how dramatic she is!”
But my mother wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking at me. And in her eyes, I saw something shift. Something click into place. All those years of my “mysterious” illnesses. My fear of being alone with Dad. The way I flinched when he hugged me.
“Oh my God,” Mom whispered. “Oh my God, Emily. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”
She ran to me and wrapped her arms around me, sobbing. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have seen it. I should have protected you.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Jake said quietly. “I’m actually going to kill him.”
Thomas stepped between Jake and my father. “No son, you’re not. Because that’s what he wants. He wants to ruin your wedding day. He wants to be the center of attention. He wants to control everything, including how you react.”
Thomas turned to my father, who had stopped struggling and was now trying to look dignified.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Thomas said calmly. “You’re going to leave this church. You’re going to get in your car and drive away. And you’re never going to contact Emily again.”
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