“Honestly, I don’t know why Cara keeps trying. She’s always looking for pity. She made her choices, and now she wants the whole world to pay for them.”
Gasps rippled through the room. My mom’s hands flew to her mouth.
Another clip followed, this one my dad’s voice from what sounded like a backyard barbecue.
“That kid of hers is wild. You never know how children from those situations turn out. Cara expects us to pretend everything is normal. It’s embarrassing.”
A murmur spread among the relatives. Someone whispered that they had heard something similar before but didn’t believe it.
Clip after clip rolled on. My mom calling me irresponsible. My dad telling a friend at the golf course that I used men for help. Both of them agreeing that they should distance themselves so my reputation wouldn’t stain the family name. And worst of all, a recording where they spoke about Lily—my mom’s voice, cool and dismissive:
“We don’t bring her to events. People will ask questions. It’s better this way.”
My father answered:
“Easier for everyone.”
My stomach twisted. I heard Lily inhale sharply beside me. When I turned, her little face was flushed and trembling, her hands gripping her tablet tightly. The livestream had not stopped for a single second. In the corner of Lily’s tablet, the viewer count began to jump. One hundred twenty. One hundred eighty. Two hundred fifty. I watched it climb with surreal disbelief. Two hundred eighty-seven. Then three hundred. Then higher.
The comment section streamed upward rapidly. Some kids were typing shocked faces. Parents posting things like “I am watching” and “This is not okay.”
Then another name popped up. I blinked hard. It was her teacher.
“Mrs. Anderson is watching the stream,” I whispered.
I saw her comment appear:
“Lily, sweetheart, you are very brave. Please stay safe. I am here.”
Something inside me broke and hardened at the same time. My daughter was not alone. People were seeing the truth. A whole audience was witnessing what we had lived with in silence for years.
My mom lunged toward Lily suddenly, reaching for the tablet.
“Turn that thing off right now,” she shouted. “You have no right to broadcast private matters. This is family business.”
Lily stumbled back, nearly losing her grip. I stepped between them instantly, my voice low and sharp.
“Do not touch her.”
My dad slammed his fist on the dining table.