Chapter 27 - piper finally asked selene whether she had ever believed something was wrong with her
Piper was eighteen when she requested the meeting.
Tristan’s first instinct was no.
He hated that.
He corrected before speaking.
“What do you want from it?”
Piper noticed.
Smiled faintly.
“One answer.”
The meeting took place in a restorative-justice office.
Selene had completed her custodial sentence years earlier and remained compliant with contact restrictions.
The meeting could happen only because Piper, now an adult, requested it.
Tristan waited outside.
Piper did not want him in the room.
Anna did not attend.
This was Piper’s question.
Selene entered.
Older.
Hair shorter.
No stepmother role.
No authority.
Just Selene.
They sat.
Piper went immediately.
“Did you ever actually think I was unstable?”
Selene stopped breathing.
“No.”
Piper’s face changed.
There.
Years.
Therapists.
Programs.
Arguments.
And Selene had never believed the story herself.
“Never?”
Selene thought.
“I thought you were anxious.”
“You had nightmares.”
“You were grieving your mother.”
“You disliked me.”
Piper’s jaw tightened.
“That’s not unstable.”
“No.”
“Then why the evaluations?”
Selene looked down.
“Because every professional who said you were basically okay became an obstacle.”
Piper stared.
“I kept hoping someone would give me language strong enough that Tristan would agree to distance.”
“The summer program.”
“Yes.”
“And boarding school.”
Selene’s eyes filled.
“Eventually.”
Piper looked sick.
“How long did you want me gone?”
“At first, a summer.”
“Then?”
“I imagined school terms.”
“Visits.”
“A structure where your father and I had most of the house and marriage without your needs organizing every day.”
Piper stared.
“I was six.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Piper’s voice broke.
“You started when I was three.”
Selene cried.
“Yes.”
“Why did you marry him?”
“I loved him.”
“That’s not love.”
Selene did not correct.
“I loved parts of being with him.”
“I also wanted his life to rearrange itself around me.”
Piper continued.
“Did you hate my mom?”
“You never knew her.”
“No.”
“Then why the pictures?”
Selene looked ashamed.
“They reminded me I arrived second.”
Piper laughed bitterly.
“You did.”
“Yes.”
“That was just true.”
“Yes.”
Selene wiped her face.
“I treated chronology like humiliation.”
That answer was so strange Piper almost laughed.
Then the harder question.
“Did you give me your medication?”
Selene went completely still.
Piper watched.
For the first time, nobody could rescue the answer with legal wording.
Selene took a long time.
Finally:
“Twice.”
Piper stopped breathing.
The room changed.
Selene continued.
“Small amounts mixed into evening drinks.”
Piper’s hands began shaking.
“Why wasn’t that in court?”
“I did not admit it then.”
Piper stared.
Selene’s voice broke.
“I told myself the dose was low.”
“That it would only make you tired.”
“That tiredness would make the behavior story more believable.”
Piper stood so quickly the chair scraped.
“You lied in court?”
“I did not testify falsely about it.”
“I refused to admit it.”
“That’s lawyer garbage.”
“Yes.”
Piper was crying now.
“Four times.”
“Anna had four dates.”
Selene shook her head.
“I know what Anna recorded.”
“I can only admit what I remember doing.”
“Twice.”
Piper stared.
Even now, no complete answer for every episode.
But two.
Enough.
“Why tell me now?”
“Because you asked.”
Piper became furious.
“You could have told investigators.”
“Yes.”
“You could have told Dad.”
“Yes.”
“You let me spend years wondering whether my own body lied.”
Selene cried.
“Yes.”
That was worse than the dosing in some ways.
The uncertainty had become another hidden room.
Piper looked toward the facilitator.
Then back.
“I’m done.”
Selene nodded.
No:
Please.
No:
Forgive me.
Piper walked to the door.
Then stopped.
“Did Anna know?”
“Not the admission.”
Piper nodded.
“Do not contact her.”
“I won’t.”
Piper left.
Tristan stood instantly.
One look at her face.
“What happened?”
She held up one hand.
Not yet.
He stopped.
They walked outside.
Sat in his car.
For five minutes she said nothing.
Then:
“She did it.”
Tristan’s breath disappeared.
“Twice.”
His anger rose so violently he gripped the steering wheel.
Piper saw.
“Dad.”
He released it.
She continued.
“She doesn’t know about the other two.”
Tristan closed his eyes.
Still uncertainty.
Even inside confession.
Piper began crying.
He waited.
Then she reached.
He held his daughter.
Not six.
Eighteen.
Still his.
“She let me think maybe I imagined it.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Piper pulled away.
“She knew.”
Tristan understood the difference.
“Yes.”
That night Piper called Anna herself.
Anna cried when she heard.
Not with relief.
With grief.
For a child who had spent twelve years negotiating with uncertainty an adult could have reduced sooner.
Piper said:
“Were you right?”
Anna answered:
“About being concerned?”
“Yes.”
“About every detail?”
“We still don’t know.”
Piper laughed through tears.
Of course Anna would say that.
Truth did not need exaggeration.
Even tonight.
May you like
Maybe that was why Piper trusted her.
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