I stared at my plate for a long moment while forcing the words through my throat. “I’m sorry Tiffany,” I said quietly.
“Speak clearly so we can hear you,” my father replied without raising his voice.
“I’m sorry for breaking the plate and running outside,” I repeated while keeping my eyes on the table. Tiffany smiled warmly as if she had just forgiven a small mistake.
“It’s alright sweetheart,” she said sweetly. “We forgive each other in this family.”
The lie floated through the dining room like invisible poison.
That night a fever spread through my body and by morning I could barely stand without holding the wall for support. I still forced myself to go to school because the idea of staying home alone with Tiffany terrified me more than the sickness.
When I arrived at Silver Ridge High the hallway lights seemed painfully bright and every step made my head pound. A girl named Natalie Briggs, who had been my childhood friend for years, stopped me near the lockers.
“You look really sick,” she said with concern while studying my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied quickly while closing my locker. I did not want anyone asking questions that might cause trouble later.
During history class the room began spinning slowly around me and the words on the board blurred together. My vision darkened at the edges while a wave of dizziness forced me to grip the desk.
The teacher Mr Otis Barker noticed that something was wrong and immediately sent another student to escort me to the nurse’s office. School nurse Janet Fielding took one look at my pale face and quickly checked my temperature.
“One hundred three point four,” she said with alarm while setting the thermometer aside. She then asked me to remove my sweater so she could check my breathing.
When the fabric brushed against my scalp I cried out in pain without meaning to. Her expression changed immediately.
“Let me see your head for a moment,” she said gently.
She carefully moved my hair aside and examined the skin near my scalp before inhaling sharply. “These injuries look like someone pulled your hair very hard,” she said quietly.
Tears began running down my face while panic filled my chest. “Please do not call my parents,” I whispered desperately.
“Who caused these injuries?” she asked calmly while kneeling beside me.
“Tiffany,” I answered with a trembling voice.