“The texts,” she says. “At first, they weren’t too bad. Just generic threats. They couldn’t trace the number—most likely from a burner. But they said it probably wasn’t Peter because he was still in prison.”
“Which is what we’ve concluded, unless he’s got someone doing the dirty work for him. Then what?” I press, wanting to know all of it so I can decide what still needs to be done.
“I went back again when I got the emails. I thought they could find out where they came from.” I can hear her anger. “But the emails hadn’t turned violent yet. Just creepy, so they didn’t take it seriously. Told me to block the sender. Use filters.”
“Have you gone back since they got worse?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
I narrow my eyes. “Anything else? Have you asked anyone else for help?”
She hesitates, her gaze dropping, and it seems she might be hiding something. My spider senses tingle. “I need to know everyone who might have knowledge of this.”
Mila flushes and I think it might be guilt, but I discount that after I hear the sadness in her tone. “I called my mom.”
I blink in surprise. “Oh.”
“First time since I left,” looking away from me. Her reply is so soft I barely catch it.
“You don’t talk to them at all?”
“No.” She lifts her eyes, a half-smile on her face. “Not once since my aunt took me in.”
I wasn’t quite sure what the residual family dynamics looked like in the Brennan family, but I don’t want to poke too deep so I stick to the call she made. “What happened with your mom when you reached out to her?”
“She listened,” Mila says, her voice cracking slightly. “I told her about the threats. Said I was scared. And she told me there’s no way Peter could’ve done it and then… she hung up on me.”
My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. “Jesus. How can they do that to you?”
She shrugs. “They’ve always believed what happened to Nathan was a mistake. A horrible accident. They said prison was too harsh. That since Peter felt guilty, it should’ve been enough punishment.”
“They blamedyouentirely for what happened to him,” I say, almost growling. That’s beyond unimaginable. I mean, I get that I was blamed by players and the community, but Mila’s own parents turned against her for doing the morally responsible thing.
“Yeah.” Her eyes have a sheen to them, but she blinks a few times and they clear. “I stood by what I did. I told them Peter may not have meant to kill Nathan, but hedidmean to humiliate him. To make him suffer. He gave him that alcohol. Beat him with that hose. Laughed when he puked. Left him naked on the locker room floor to die.” She pauses, her bitterness evident. “Icould never get it out of my head… the way they laughed that night.”
My gut twists, because I was laughing too. Not because I thought it was funny, but because… well, I don’t know why I did it, and it claws at my gut. “I remember that too,” I say quietly. “I was one of the people laughing.”
Mila nods, her expression bearing an empathy I don’t deserve. “It shocked me as I was listening… to hear you laugh about it. But it was clear in that conversation that you had nothing to do with it. I could tell by listening to you that you were uncomfortable.”
“Doesn’t excuse the way I behaved,” I mutter.
“No, but you more than made up for it. Without you, Nathan’s death would have meant nothing.”
I don’t want or need her absolution. It’s my cross to bear, so once again, I turn the spotlight off me. “And your parents… just disowned you or something?”
She nods, her chin sticking out a bit in defiance. “They tried to talk me out of testifying. They begged me but I couldn’t turn my head the other way, even if it meant Peter went to prison. My dad was furious after I set the wheels in motion by going to the police. He was screaming at me. He said, ‘I’d kick you out of this house if you weren’t a minor. You ruined everything for this family.’”
I’m stunned. “So, what happened?”
“I called my aunt. Hysterical. She drove from Florida to Minnesota overnight. Showed up at our house and demanded they hand me over. My dad didn’t fight her. My mom practically shoved me out the door.”
“And this was your mom’s sister?” I hazard a guess.
Mila nods. “Needless to say, she’s not on speaking terms with my mom anymore. Dorene’s not just an aunt. She became my mother.”
I’m relieved to know that Mila had someone to support her. That person for me would’ve been my dad had he not died, and I know it probably would’ve made a world of difference in the way I am now. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Mila offers a tiny smile. “No. Neither of us deserved the fallout.”
