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The Perfect Daughter(135)

Author:D.J. Palmer

But it was you, Penny, not Eve, who responded to Ryan in your sweet, quiet voice. “Why would you spy on me?”

Ryan lowered his head. “Because I wanted to get you on something, get you in trouble, like you got in trouble before with Maria. Everyone keeps secrets, and I figured since there were more of you, there would be more secrets.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I was angry at you,” Ryan said, sounding deeply remorseful. “I was angry from the moment you moved in with us, got all the attention after your diagnosis—you know, stupid kid jealousy. When Dad died and I didn’t think you did enough to help save him … then…” He took in a shaky breath, unable to get out the words. “From that moment on, I didn’t just dislike you … I hated you.”

I’ll never forget how your face crumpled as tears flooded your eyes. “I should have called nine-one-one,” you said, your voice breaking. Tears poured into Ryan’s eyes as well. “I knew he was dead, but still, I should have called. I remember calling his name, checking his pulse, listening for a heartbeat, but he was gone. I don’t remember anything after. For all I know, I could have switched to Isabella, and she didn’t know what to do.”

“The doctors said it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

Mom felt she needed to remind everyone that no one at the table was at fault.

“I know,” Ryan said. “I just didn’t want to believe it … I needed someone to blame because I missed Dad, and you were there with him. All of my earlier resentments got this new energy, and I put all the blame on you, and that wasn’t fair. I’m not proud of what I’ve done.” He shut his eyes tightly, turning his head because he couldn’t stand to face her.

“I don’t have a real memory of seeing someone outside Rachel’s window, Eve did, but somehow I knew it had happened,” Penny said, putting it together now. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Ryan lowered his head. “I’d make these regular checks on your stuff online,” he said. “That’s how I knew you were back in contact with your birth mother, or at least that’s who I thought it was. So I followed you to Rachel’s house, and I watched you go inside. I brought my camera to take pictures and show Mom, because that kind of secret and betrayal would hurt. And I wanted to hurt you. The curtains were closed, so I stayed outside waiting for my good shot.

“I didn’t think you had done anything like what happened. But before I heard the police sirens, I saw Navarro leave the apartment. It was dark, and I didn’t get a great look at his face, but now, looking back, knowing what I know, it was him, I’m sure of it. I just didn’t put it together before. I saw him stuffing something into his jacket pocket, and I guess, thinking back, it could have been rope. Navarro must have called nine-one-one, tapped on the phone instead of speaking to the dispatch operator, and then he left the house, knowing the police would trace the call.

“Eventually I heard the sirens. You must have heard them, too, because you glanced out the window, saw me. That’s when I ran. You see, Penny, I knew somebody else was involved, but I believed in my heart—or tricked myself into believing—that he came from the apartment above, that you were the only one in Rachel’s place that night, that you snapped and did those things you wrote about with Maria. I wanted it to be true so you’d be punished. That’s why I didn’t say anything. So many times … so many times I thought about coming clean, but every day that went by, my self-deception rooted deeper. I was disgusted with myself. I couldn’t concentrate at school … I saw Mom, so brokenhearted, and I thought about killing myself, but the lie I was perpetuating took on a life of its own. It all got so out of hand. The longer it went on, the harder it got to tell the truth.”

“You damn jerk,” I snapped at Ryan, looking at him incredulously. “Somebody else being in the house that night would have changed everything! Penny might not have been charged.”

“I doubt that,” you said, surprising me by coming to Ryan’s defense. “I was covered in blood, holding the murder weapon. I might not remember it, but I know what I’ve been told. The police would have been looking for a mystery accomplice, and they wouldn’t have realized that he was defending my case.”

“That’s probably true,” Mom concurred.

“So the guilt got to you,” I said.

Ryan nodded pitifully. “I let you down,” he said, swallowing hard. “And I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I’m hoping—make that praying—you’ll forgive me.”