The Redemption of Callie & Kayden

room all the time, when I changed my wardrobe to “hoodlum clothes,” as she put. She’s probably thinking about when I stopped talking to almost everyone. When I stopped crying. When I stopped living.
    We’re in the living room, sitting on the couches. My father is next to me, close, like he thinks he can still protect me from everything bad in the world. Jackson left the house right after I took my dad out of the room so he doesn’t know yet, but I wonder what he’ll do when he finds out—if he’ll believe me or take his best friend’s side.
    “Yes, it did,” I say, surprised by the strength in my voice. “You were outside and everyone was playing hide-and-seek. And he… Caleb told me he had a present. He took me into my room and then… and then it happened.”
    She’s shaking her head over and over again and my dad starts crying again. “There must be a mistake. I wish it were a mistake.”
    “It’s not,” I say simply. “It happened and here I am telling you… I really wish… I really wish I could say it was a mistake, though. But wishes are just wishes, Mom. I know that.”
    She keeps tucking her hair into place and smoothing the wrinkles from her sweating, like she needs to fix something. “Why didn’t you tell us when it happened, Callie? I don’t understand.”
    I’m not sure she ever will. My mother loathes dark, ugly things that exist in the word and her defense has always been to ignore them. And now her daughter is telling her that these dark, ugly things have been living in her house, eating her food, smiling at her, charming her, and slowly killing her daughter.
    “Shame… guilt… fear,” I say, trying to explain the best I can, focusing on my pulse and the feel of the metal of the clover as it rests against the hollow of my neck. “The sheer fact that saying it aloud makes it real.”
    “Damn it!” My dad pounds his fist on the armrest and then pounds it into the wall, making my mom and me jump. His eyes are red and his skin is pale. “I’m going to fucking kill him!”
    “No, you’re not, Dad,” I say, shaking my head as I touch his arm, trying to calm him down. “Killing him will get you nowhere but in jail. I don’t want you to go to jail.”
    Tear streams from his eyes and it’s so strange to see. I watch them fall onto his lap as he says, “Is that why he did it? Kayden?”
    I nod my head once. “He wanted to make him pay… for what he did. And it was… it was the only way he could think of to do it.”
    My dad rises to his feet and shadows over me. He’s not that large of a man—medium build and height—but right now he seems enormous. “Oh, he’s going to pay. I’m going to call the police.”
    I jump up and grab his arm, wrapping my fingers firmly around his elbows. “You can’t… It won’t do any good… It’s been too long dad.”
    My mother starts to bawl, taking hysterical breathes as she buries her face into her hands. “This is so wrong… This can’t be happening… Oh my God…”
    “But it is,” I say, and she stares at me through her tears. “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”
    “How can you be so calm?” Her voice is wobbly. “I don’t understand.”
    “I’m not that calm,” I correct her as my hand leaves my dad’s arm. “I’m just… I’m just trying to move on. Besides…” My eyebrows knit as I realize how strong I’m being at the moment. “I’ve been weak for long enough and I don’t want to crumble anymore.”
    She takes her phone out of her pocket and starts punching away at buttons. “This is so ridiculous. This is not happening. No, it can’t… It can’t…”
    “Mom, what are you doing?” I ask, and when she doesn’t answer, I trade a questioning glance with my father.
    He wipes the tears away from his eyes with the back of his hand. “Honey, I think the texting can be put on hold for a moment.”
    She shakes her head and she hits the last button. “I’m telling Jackson to come home.”
    “Why?” I ask warily.
    “Because he’s part of this… this… this… I don’t even know what this is.” Tears flow from her eyes and drip to her lap, staining her slacks. Her eyes are swollen, and if she keeps crying, she won’t be able to see.
    I glance up my dad. “She doesn’t need to cry, Dad… Help her stop.”
    He pats my arm in a comforting gesture. “She’s upset.” His jaw tightens and he looks at me. I wonder what he sees. “And so am I. No, I’m fucking pissed. This is such