Chapter 5: The Final Goodbye

I didn’t go to the restaurant. I curled up on the sofa all night, the TV flickering in the dark, some lawyer’s commercial playing on mute. Dad didn’t come home.

The next morning, the door creaked open. Dad stumbled in, flowers in hand, jacket wrinkled. He looked at me, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“Where were you last night? Why didn’t you come to the restaurant? Natalie wanted us all together. When she gets back, apologize, okay?”

Tears blurred my vision. “Dad, why do you always blame me? Did you even ask what happened to me yesterday?”

My voice shook. “You texted me—said you needed a document. I took a shortcut like you said—”

He interrupted: “How could that be? I was at the restaurant. Even if you didn’t want to come, you don’t need to make up stories—”

He put the flowers in a vase, then looked up and froze. The bruises on my arms and neck, the scratches on my face—finally, he saw.

“Allison, you—what happened?”

I met his gaze, voice flat. “Just what you see. While you were celebrating, I was raped.”

He froze, then stepped toward me, hands trembling, pain in his eyes. For a moment, hope flickered in my chest.

“Dad, can you call Natalie and Lillian back—”

The pain in his eyes turned to suspicion. “Why do you want them? This can’t have anything to do with them. I know Natalie, and Lillian’s a good kid…”

My disappointment burned. I hurled my phone at him. “If you don’t believe me, look for yourself.”

He stared at it, but didn’t move.

“Look,” I begged, tears streaming.

He looked away. I laughed, the sound hollow. “You’re scared. Deep down you know those women are snakes. You wish you could get rid of your ex-wife’s daughter.”

Smack. His hand met my cheek. He froze, stammered an apology. “Dad didn’t mean to…”

I said nothing, just let the tears fall.

He panicked. “Dad will look, okay?” But instead, he pulled out his own phone, showed me the empty screen. “See? No message. It must be a misunderstanding.”

In that instant, I was done with him. My heart went cold.

“I will call the police.”

He started to protest, but drove me to the station.

The police caught the rapist in two days—a drifter named Aaron Martin, tattooed, sneering. He said, “She was asking for it, wearing a skirt like that.”

The cops called it an accident. Natalie and Lillian were never questioned. I was just unlucky.

That day, Dad sobbed, clutching my hand. “Allison, Dad is sorry…”

His tears were hot, but I felt nothing.

A month before my sixteenth birthday, the trial came. I sat in the fluorescent-lit courtroom, the seats scratchy, my hands shaking. I watched the man ask the judge, “She’s okay, right?” When told yes, he broke down, cried, begged for leniency.

Dad’s fists clenched, his face stormy, but I shrank from his touch. “Allison, what do you want me to do so you’ll forgive me?”

I met his eyes. “Divorce Natalie.”

He hesitated, awkward. “It was just a prank from Lillian. Natalie said she didn’t mean it. I’ll make sure they’re punished, okay?”

I almost laughed. Who will pay for my ruined life?

I stood up. “I’ll move to the school dorm tomorrow.”

He looked defeated. He didn’t argue. That was all I needed to see.