I was in my room, the door locked, trying to find solace in the furious chords of a rock band when the knock came again. It was soft, hesitant. It had to be Barron.
“Go away,” I called out, not bothering to turn the music down.
“Tala, please. Just… five minutes.” His voice was muffled through the thick wood.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“But I have to say something to you! Please, Tally.”
Tally. No one had called me that but him, back when we were allies, back when we were brother and sister, a team. The old nickname was a low blow, a targeted strike at a weakness I didn’t know I still had. With a frustrated sigh, I rolled off the bed, stomped to the door, and unlocked it, pulling it open just enough to glare at him.
He looked miserable. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes—my eyes—were red-rimmed. “What?” I snapped.
“What you said down there… about me being a traitor…” he started, his voice cracking. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it?” I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “You stood there. You chose her. You watched them drag me away from Dad. It seems pretty simple from where I’m standing, Barron.”
“You don’t understand everything!” he said, his voice rising with a desperation that was almost convincing. “I did it… I had to. For Mom.”
“For Mom?” I stared at him in disbelief. “She’s the one who blew up our lives! She’s the one who cheated and lied! Why does she deserve your loyalty?”
He looked over his shoulder down the empty hallway, then back at me, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Because she’s not… Dad wasn’t… It’s not what you think.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Things were bad, Tally. For a long time. You just didn’t see it.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, a cold sliver of confusion piercing through my anger. “What was bad? Dad is perfect.”
“No one is perfect,” he whispered, and the look in his eyes was ancient, full of a sadness and knowledge that I didn’t understand. He looked like he was about to say more, his lips parting, but then he seemed to lose his nerve. He just shook his head again. “Just… be careful, okay? Don’t push them too hard. You don’t know the whole story.”
“Then tell me!” I insisted, grabbing his arm.
He pulled away gently. “I can’t. I promised.” He looked at me one last time, his expression a mixture of guilt and warning. “I’m still on your side, Tally. I always will be. You just have to trust me.”
He turned and walked away, leaving me in the doorway, my mind reeling.
I shut the door and locked it again, my back sliding down its smooth surface until I was sitting on the floor. My anger was still there, a hot, roaring fire. But now, it was joined by something else. A small, poisonous seed of doubt.
You don’t know the whole story.
What story? What hadn’t I seen? I had built my world on a single, unshakable truth: my father was the hero, and my mother was the villain. But Barron’s words, his fear, had just handed me a hammer, and the foundations of my entire world had just begun to crack.