Ellison
“When did you stop caring about the voiceless?” I barge into Dad’s office and could care less how many people are in the room. “My entire life, that’s what you ingrained in me. That we are blessed and our job is to help those in need. When did you change, or have you been lying to me the entire time?”
Dad’s not behind his desk but perched in the front of it, and he merely raises his eyebrows at my entrance. “I’m not discussing this with you until you’ve had time to calm down. The past twenty-four hours have been emotional for all of us, and we all need to take a few minutes, regain our composure and discuss these events when we’re all thinking rationally.”
“Are you admitting then you made an emotional decision? That you were wrong about asking Drix to give up his entire future because you’re scared what might happen to yours?”
Dad gets up then, walks straight to me, and my heart stutters when he grabs my arm, shoves me out into the hallway and closes the door behind him. He towers over me, still gripping my arm, his fingers biting just enough into my flesh that it makes me go mute.
“You’re my daughter, you’re hurting, and I’m sorry for that, but you will never disrespect me like that in front of people again, do you understand?”
My father has never done this and I’m sick.
He shakes me. “I said, do you understand?”
I nod, because I can’t find my voice.
He releases me then, places his hand on my shoulders and squeezes. Not in a painful way, but in the way he’s done a million times, his reminder that he loves me. This switch-up between anger and love is so confusing I’m dizzy.
“What’s happening is terrible, but you have to accept Hendrix’s decision. He sees what’s best, and I need you to see what’s best, too.”
“You’re letting Drix down. You’re supposed to protect him.”
“Why can’t you see I’m protecting all the people who wind up in the school-to-prison pipeline? If this goes public, I guarantee this program will go up in flames. Sometimes, you have to make a sacrifice in order to win. Hendrix is willing to make the sacrifice. He understands one loss, when so many others will be saved, is a steep price, but one worth paying.”
I shrug off his arms and step back. “That’s easy to say when you aren’t the one paying the price.”
“I have paid the price. Multiple times in my life I’ve made sacrifices to get where I am now. Hendrix is smart, resourceful. He will do well with his life. If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t ask that of him. In a few months, a few years, when I can, I’ll help him.”
I stare at my father with new eyes. Eyes that are born out of hard emotional labor. Will he help Drix? The man I thought he was would have, but I’m starting to believe that I created a make-believe image. “You were my hero.”
Without waiting for his response, I turn and walk away.
One time, as a child, I remember being separated from my parents at a craft festival. I saw a stuffed animal I wanted, so I went one way, and without realizing it, they went another. For a span of a minute, I had complete joy, but when I glanced up to ask my dad if I could have him, I had this instant of intense fear. I was lost.
The same soul-crushing, mind hysteria sensation I’m experiencing now is the same feeling as then, but this is much worse. I’m within the walls of my home, yet I’m lost.
I round the corner to head to the stairs, and my stomach twists in such a way that my head begins to throb. Henry. I need Henry, but he’s gone. Out of contact until he contacts me, and if I could call him, he’d be in some country, overseas feeling useless as I cried. I need my cousin, my sole ally, but he’s gone.
I’m lost and alone.
“Elle.”
With my hand on the stair railing, I glance over my shoulder. Cynthia slinks out of the dining room, a thumb drive in her hands. She extends it to me, but what keeps me locked in place is how her eyes shift left and right, as if she’s about to give me a bomb. “Take it.”
“What is it?”
“Copies of Hendrix’s file.”
I blink, then survey the room to see if I’m somehow being tested. “So?”
Cynthia’s hand shakes as she strokes her bangs away from her forehead. “No one knows I’ve done this. Your dad will be angry, but I spent a lot of time with Hendrix, and he’s a good kid. He deserves better.”
I agree, but my father doesn’t. “What do you expect me to do with this?”
She pushes it closer to me. “I don’t know. Give it to Hendrix, maybe. Convince him to change his mind.”
There’s no changing his mind, but I take the thumb drive anyway because I can tell how much this gift is costing her. “Thank you.”
“I’m not done,” she says, and that catches me off guard.
“There’s more?”
“About you.” She swallows and flips her cell around in her hands. “The leaked pictures and information about you and Andrew, I know who’s been doing it.”
I suck in a deep breath. A win. A win that feels too late, but I need a win. “Who?”
She bites her bottom lip, then looks me straight in the eye. “Me. I’ve been the one leaking the pictures and the stories, and I did it because your father and mother told me to. They knew you and Andrew would be popular with the media and that it would lead to positive press and win voters. They’ve staged everything, and Andrew’s known the entire time. Hendrix isn’t the only good person getting a bad deal. You also deserve better. Much, much better.”