If You Tell a Lie

by Lucinda Berry

She was crying openly now. She struggled to gain composure, but Grace had no patience for any of it.

How awful it’s been my whole life. The terrible way I’ve been treated. It started with my dad. He’s a total sociopath. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Least of all me. Never has. But everyone thinks he’s just so wonderful. This poor widowed man raising his daughter alone. How I was so lucky to have him.” She snorted. Her voice shifting from devastation to anger in an instant. “But he hated me from the moment I was born. I used to think it was because I killed my mom, but I think he hated me period. He always wanted a son. Not me. That’s why he was so different with Jonathon. Do you know they never even brought me with on the family vacations?” She eyed their faces, but they were still set in stone. She pointed to me. “Thera knows. She’s been to my house when we were kids. She saw how they treated me. Anyway, that summer we got back from camp? That’s the summer he met Phillip at a golf charity event and learned his biotech start-up was killing it. There’s nothing my daddy likes more than making money, so of course he immediately wanted in. But that was the problem—so did everybody else.

That was until the day Phillip stopped by the house and saw me.” She paused. Her eyes traveled around the table just like they used to travel around the campfire right before she told one of her famous stories. The most powerful déjà vu feeling hit me. Grace and Meg still looked mad, but they were listening as intently as I was. “My daddy offered me to him. Forced me to go out with him, even though I was only nineteen and he was almost forty. It was so disgusting. He was like this dirty old man, but my dad didn’t care about any of that.”

“Look, Blakely, your husband sounds like a real asshole. So does your dad, and I’m sorry all that happened to you, but bringing us here like this to help you? Under these pretenses?” She shook her head just like Blakely. “That’s just not cool. It’s manipulative and hurtful. Bringing all that up just to benefit you? It’s—” “No!” Blakely interrupted her. “It’s not like that. You don’t understand.” “You’re in an awful situation. I understand just fine, but I don’t like being lied to. I definitely don’t like being played.” She burst into tears again. “He was threatening my babies. He killed one of my babies. He was going to take James Bond too.” “Oh my God, he murdered your children? That’s when you go to the police. You don’t call your best friends from camp,” Meg yelled. She jumped up and joined Grace.

literally wtf is wrong with her

“If he’s so controlling, then how’d you get all of us here? He just kept you completely isolated until now and then suddenly decides it’s okay for you to hang with all of us? Is he watching us now? Listening?” Grace asked, eyeing the backyard the same way I’d just done. I scanned it again like I had any idea what I was looking for. There were plenty of lights and sprinklers, but I didn’t see anything that looked like cameras. Of course, I’d never seen any security cameras outside of department stores, so I probably wouldn’t have been able to recognize them even if I had seen them. Blakely frantically shook her head. She looked desperate. The same way she’d looked when she came out of Mr. Crosby’s office all those years ago. “I already took care of it.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She let out a deep whispered sigh and said in a barely audible voice, “He’s dead.”

She was about to ask the question again when Blakely cut her off. “Because I killed him.”

THIS BITCH. I WOULD THROW HER UNDER THE BUS SO QUICK WTF

I asked, not affected by her meekness and the damsel-in-distress act she was trying to project onto us.

Thera was clearly moved. Always a sucker for anyone’s emotions. But I didn’t move a muscle.

I was furious. How dare she bring us into this?

“What did you do?” Thera asked in a soft, quiet voice. Finding her voice again. “It was the same thing he’d done with Camille—” “No!” I yelled over the top of her talking. “I don’t want to hear any of this! Nothing. How could you? What were you—”

“I understand why you’re mad, but try to have some compassion,” Thera said. I balked at her. “Are you that stupid?”

THANK YOU WTF

“She’s just implicated us in the murder of her husband, you know that, right?” I pointed at Blakely. “We know somebody’s dead, and we know she killed him. So, even if we don’t agree to help her—” I glanced at Blakely, quickly shifting my focus to her again. “Which, by the way, what exactly are we helping you with?” I didn’t give her time to answer before I turned back to Meg. “Either way, she’s gotten our hands dirty. You don’t see that? You’re just going to know about a murder and keep your mouth shut?”

Everything stilled in the room. Because we’d already done that once. Blakely had just given us another secret to eat. But guess what? I was full.

“You screwed with my life again. You did that once, and I’m not going to let you do it again.” The others stared at me like what I was saying wasn’t true, but they knew it was. “This isn’t a group decision. We’re not teenagers anymore.” But none of them had moved. They all stood staring at me like we were exactly that. Like we’d grown backward in the last hour. That was the thing about being that young. What your friends thought about you was more important than anything else in the world, and being excluded from the group was the most painful thing you could experience. But that wasn’t who we were anymore. At least I wasn’t. “We’re all grown women,” I said, making loaded eye contact with every single one, talking slowly to make sure my point wasn’t lost on any of them. “We get to make our own decisions. We don’t have to do things as a group anymore. We’re separate people.”

Of course Thera would hear her out. Thera was her best friend. We tried to pretend like all our friendships were equal, but they weren’t. That was the biggest lie. It was Thera and Blakely. Me and Meg. When it came down to it, that’s how the sides always divided. Except for that summer, because Meg had something to prove. I’d always wondered why she suddenly went boy crazy that summer, because that’d never been her personality. But no wonder. For a second, it tugged at my heart, because she wasn’t wrong. We all would’ve rejected her, because that’s what you did to gay people in the nineties, especially teenage ones. She’d felt so bad that Mr. Crosby responded to her. She’d never wanted him to.

Blakely reached over and grabbed my arm. “What about what we promised?” “Are you serious right now?” But I didn’t have to look any further than her face to know that she was. “We were fourteen years old! You can’t expect us to keep some stupid promise we made when we were in middle school!” But she did. It was written all over her with the same earnestness that was there when we’d made the promise.

Especially one where we had to pledge ourselves to each other for life. Blood sisters.

The girls at camp were always obsessed with who was best friends with who. It was a constant competition for friendship, like having a best friend was a special kind of trophy and who you matched with was important.

That’s super great, but listen to this—if we drink the blood, then we actually have each other’s blood inside us. We become one for real. All of us. Forever.” She looked around the circle, but she didn’t have to convince me. I clapped. “Okay, that’s super disgusting, but I actually kind of like it.”

Meg continued, “I promise to always love you. Always support you. And always protect you.” Our words echoed hers. “I will keep your secrets forever. You are now blood of my blood. Flesh of my flesh.”

Blood tasted just like it smelled, but it wasn’t that bad. I kind of liked it.

Is she in trouble? What do we know about her? Maybe she killed her husband on purpose and she just wants us to help her hide the body. You ever thought of that? She sent all of us those cards, bringing up all that stuff, to lure us here? That seems pretty manipulative and vindictive to me, so sorry if I’m a little skeptical of anything that has to do with her. You don’t even know her.” “Come on, Grace. You know Blakely.” “Do I?” I raised my eyebrows at her. “Do you? Have you been in touch?” She shook her head and mumbled no. “Yeah, me neither. And I don’t know what you’ve been doing these last two decades, but I’ve been doing quite a bit of changing. I’m not anywhere near the person I used to be then,

Meg grabbed my arm to stop my frenzied packing. “I understand that you’re upset.” “Upset?!” I shrieked. “Of course I’m upset. Blakely just implicated me for a second murder. Two!” I held up two fingers in her face. I shook my head. “I can’t even believe this. I never should’ve come.”

She sounded just like she had that summer. I couldn’t take another minute.

She backed up like I’d slapped her. And I’ll admit, it was a pretty low blow, but guess what? It was the truth. We weren’t safe enough for her to tell us who she really was.

Would I ever know for sure what happened in there? I’d replayed the scene so many times. But everything was so twisted and distorted.

They did everything wrong back in those days, especially when it came to sexual assault and teenagers.

Regina was attacking Mr. Crosby with the knife, and Blakely was doing her best to pull her off him. I’d thought Blakely was the one that needed my help. What if I’d had it wrong all along?

That Regina had shown up at the same time and was fending Blakely off? But I’d seen it with my own eyes. I’d watched Regina mutilate him. But could Blakely have started it? Did it really matter if she had? My memory was so fuzzy. All the corners frayed.

Grace might’ve changed a lot in the last twenty years, but her mistrust of people hadn’t. There’d been something off with her that summer, and I’d asked her what was wrong multiple times, but she always just said everything was fine. It wasn’t until my mom brought her up in one of our phone conversations that I’d started putting the pieces together.

You pretended it didn’t bother you, even though you wanted to die on the inside.

I lost Jared just once, but I lose them over and over again. That’s much worse. Each time I try to reach out, they reject me. They’re grown men with lives of their own, and neither of them want me in them.

I get it, and I’m not even mad at them. I killed their dad. I wasn’t like some other women, who stood by their man after they’d been accused of a terrible crime, or mothers who chose to protect their husband over their children. From the moment the story broke, I believed those girls, because that’s what you do with child abuse victims. I believed they were right. That Jared was guilty of everything they accused him of. And I wanted him dead.

Jared deserved to suffer. Death was too easy an out, but I had to kill him because it was the only way to stop him from hurting another child. Because people like him? Ones that sexually abuse young girls who look up to them as heroes? They don’t ever get better. They don’t ever change. So, I wanted to make sure he’d never hurt anyone else. That was the only way, and I wasn’t sorry. Up until the point I started suspecting he might not have done it. Then, everything shifted.

“This is where I come to play by myself,” she said, leading the way in front of me into the pitch black. “I’ve never brought anyone down here before. You’re the first.” I laughed nervously and forced myself to keep moving. She flicked on the light when we got to the bottom of the stairs, and that’s when I saw them. Her dolls. Well, not her dolls, exactly. Only the heads. She’d ripped their bodies off, and those lay in a heap over in the corner. Their heads dangled from string tied around their necks, stretched from one end of the basement to the other. All their hair had been cut off too. Some of them were grossly disfigured. Stabbed with scissors or marked with black Sharpie. “No one can hear us when we play down here,” she said with a wicked grin. “That’s why I like coming down here.” But I refused to go down there again. It was too creepy for me, and I didn’t like to play in the dark. It scared me.

um ew wtf????

Sorry, I can’t help but defend myself because I know everyone’s judging me. I didn’t expect those reactions.” “Grace did come at you rather hard.” Blakely snorted. “You think? And from her? I mean, come on. Who is she to judge about anyone else’s life? I’m sorry. Maybe if I took my clothes off and flashed my boobs in front of the camera, I’d be a millionaire too.” She slapped her hand over her mouth after she’d said it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just angry.”

eyeroll. blakely is the worst

I didn’t know what to say to that. Blakely had always said she was a killer. That’s how she liked to introduce herself at camp when we were really young. Whenever we got matched with our counselor, the first thing they made us do was go around the room and introduce ourselves. Blakely always said the same thing. “I’m Blakely, and I’m a killer.” She’d giggle as they looked back at her with horrified expressions. None of them ever knew what to say after that. She loved shocking people. Anything to throw them off balance. She’d give them a few more seconds to squirm before saying the next part, “Really, I’m a killer. That’s the first thing I did when I was born—killed my mom. Daddy keeps saying it’s not my fault, but that makes no sense when she literally died squeezing me out of her vagina. She bled out on the table.”

“It was so easy.” She let out a small giggle, almost like she’d sounded when we were little and she was telling me all her secrets. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh. That’s so terrible. It’s not funny, but I’d just been terrified of Phillip for so long. Like totally out-of-my-mind scared. You have no idea what that’s like. Living in constant fear. Every single day. All the time.” Her eyes clouded at the mention of it, but she quickly pushed the feelings aside. She was good at that. Almost as good as I was. “And then, when I finally did it?” She smiled. “It was just so easy. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get rid of him. All I kept thinking that night while I hid in the closet was how I should’ve done it years ago.”

She giggled again. She couldn’t help herself. I didn’t miss the irony in it, and part of me wanted to laugh too.

He sounded like a terrible man who’d treated her even worse. Bad people should be punished. We didn’t do it often enough.

“Like when he was dying and you were in the closet, what’d you listen to?” She shoved me back on the bed, and I toppled onto my side. “Oh my God, you really are sick, Thera!” I laughed like it wasn’t a big deal, but I really wanted to know.

Even sending pics. I’m telling you, nobody has any idea he’s missing.” She said it like she was proud of herself. He wasn’t missing—he was dead.

Some version of: What would you do if your friend murdered someone and needed your help?

What we did to Jared?” She shook her head at herself. “I mean, what I did to Jared. All of you were just following my lead. I know that.” Her eyes hadn’t left mine. “And I know it was wrong, Meg. It was wrong, and I’m so sorry I put you through that.” She glanced at Thera. “You too. I mean it. I really am sorry for what I did to that poor man and his family.” The immediate rush of relief throughout my entire body felt better than any drug I’d ever done. There. The secret was out.

She’d taken responsibility. This was why I’d come. This was what I’d needed to hear for twenty-six years. I hadn’t realized how badly I still needed to. It was like this part of my soul had been twisted up inside me and it had finally uncoiled and released.

Grace would think I was a fool. Claire would probably agree with her.

“But we did. This is all our fault. What if she killed him because of us? Because of what we said? We have to tell them. We have to help her. What about the babies? He has two babies. Oh my God, we killed a man with two babies.” She covered her hand over her mouth while she wailed. “He was a dad, you guys. A father.” I whipped around and pushed Grace off her. I grabbed Thera’s shirt and pulled her close to me, just like she’d done to Clint when he stole the picture a few days ago. Tears streamed down her face. Snot bubbled from her nose. “We didn’t kill anyone, Thera. You understand me? That crazy woman killed Jared, not us. We had nothing to do with that.”

I shook my head ferociously at her. “That woman is a crazy psycho.”

pot meet kettle....

“I can’t imagine not freaking out over it, either, but we got so lucky,” I said, with the adrenaline still pouring through me. “We didn’t get lucky.” Meg turned to me with a smile. She gave a long dramatic pause. “I wiped the sink.” “Ohmigod, are you kidding me?!” I threw my arms around her and lifted her off the floor as we squealed. I’d never loved her more than I did at that moment.