“He’s a friend,” I stumble over my words.
“So then you know I’ve already convicted himonce on a very similar offense,” he replies condescendingly.
“Yes, I know, and he was innocent then, too.His twin brother used his identity and Ryan went to jail for hiscrime.”
My father scoffs like that’s preposterous.Then a disturbed flash of recognition flickers across his faceafter I speak Ryan’s name.
“I’m not lying to you. He did it because hewas afraid Sean would die in prison.”
“And I suppose next you’re going to tell methe drugs they found on him were his brother’s too?”
“Yes!” I respond emphatically.
“So where is his brother now? Because it’sobvious this boy is feeding you a load of lies. Blaming histransgressions on someone else.”
“It’s not a lie,” I demand and my father pinsme with his eyes. “Ryan didn’t do it and Sean’s dead. Heoverdosed.” I wrap my arms around myself, the words singeing mylips. “I’m not even sure if Ryan knows.”
“Alana,” my father says unconvinced. “He’spulling the wool over your eyes, all he sees is a meal ticket.”
“Daddy-” I protest.
“Alana, enough,” he silences me, “thisconversation is over. It never happened as far as I’m concerned.Now go home.”
“No.”
“Alana, don’t push me.”
But I’m going to push him; right to hislimit.
“You can’t do this. It’s wrong. He’sinnocent.”
“You don’t know what you’re talkingabout.’
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Icontest, holding back the urge to stamp my foot like a defiantchild.
“He’s trash on the street.”
“He’s not and I love him,” I shout, my wholebody suddenly seizing. There’s a tightness in my chest and astrange feeling burning my eyes.
My father stands slowly, “Alana, I am goingto say this one last time. Leave. Never speak of this again and Iwon’t retaliate.”
Retaliate?I’m his daughter for Christsake.
“You won’t retaliate!”I throw hiswords back at him, slamming my hands on his desk, my palms stingingon impact. I drop my head, trying to hide the emotion, but I can’tcontrol it, it’s too overwhelming.
“I have done everything you ever asked meto,” I say tumultuously. “I’ve been everything you ever wanted meto be, and I know,” my chest heaves, “I know you wish it was me whodied in that car accident instead of her.” My eyes are becomingglassier with every syllable. “But I’m begging you now, if you everloved me, please don’t take Ryan away.” And as the words fall frommy lips, so do the tears from my eyes. Huge, wallops of jewels thatexplode when they hit the desk, ricocheting tiny droplets all overmy hands and the cherry wood finish. It has finally happened. Ihave been stripped bare.
I lift my head and look up at my father; he’sfrozen, stunned by my outburst; his eyes like two, huge, browndisks, flat and inanimate.
“Alana, you need to leave. Right now,” hisvoice is hoarse. “There’s nothing I can do.”
I stand up straight, tears streaming down myface, it seems now that they’ve started, they won’t stop.
I look him dead in the eyes. How is this manany part of me?
“I hate you,” I hiss. “And I’m done.”
“Done with what?” my father demands.