I sat up in bed to satisfy her, and she left.
No matter how long I remained in the shower or how much soap I used, I couldn’t wash off the layers and layers of guilt I felt. There must have been something more I could have done to stop Ignacio and his friends. I should have shouted, pleaded, run after them.
Of course, she was right. I shouldn’t feel so terrible for Bradley Whitfield. Look at what he had done to me and what sort of young man he was. But I couldn’t just forget all of the sorrow his death would cause in his family. He should have been punished, but this was too much. I wondered just how much Ignacio actually had to do with it, too. When he and his friends faced judgment, would they use me as their justification? How I wished Father Martinez was close by, so I could confess to him and hear his words of advice and comfort.
And what if somehow my grandmother Anabela heard about this? What if Tía Isabela was so angry she wrote or called to tell her? It brought tears to my eyes just thinking about her hearing such things. All of her hope, all of her prayers, would have seemed to have gone to waste.
Sophia was dressed and waiting impatiently for me when I came out of the bathroom.
“Hurry up,” she said. “Get dressed. You’re taking too long. I want us to be eating and looking totally relaxed when my mother comes home.” She checked her watch. “Move it.”
I dressed quickly and followed her out. Jesse was just leaving the house when we descended the stairway. He paused at the door.
“Edward and I know you’re lying about all of this, Sophia,” he said, looking up at us. “This time, not even your mother will be able to help you,” he added, and walked out.
“That’s what you think, Mr. Nurse. Good riddance!” she shouted after him.
Everyone in the house and on the grounds apparently had heard about the terrible events. I could see it immediately in the faces of Señora Rosario and Inez. Both were looking at me as if I were a different person entirely, as if I had shed my skin like some snake and was now truly who I was. I was dying inside to tell them everything, to explain so they would understand, but Sophia was practically attached to me this morning.
I watched her eat everything ravenously, even with all of the tension and turmoil, and I thought to myself that where most people had feelings, emotions, nerves, she must be made of steel. Despite what Bradley had done, was he not once her boyfriend? Didn’t she describe to me how she had wanted to be intimate with him? She had feelings for him once. How could she not shed a tear, or did she do so in private so she could keep up this tough appearance in front of me? For her sake, I hoped so. I hoped she had at least a small piece of heart and was capable of caring for someone else besides herself. Otherwise, she would grow up to be as lonely and as bitter as her mother.
Tía Isabela came charging into the house so fiercely I thought she was going to find and beat on us both. I cringed at the sound of her voice, hearing her shout, “Where are they?” the moment she entered. We heard Señora Rosario talking to her in a low murmur, and then we heard her slam something and start for the dining room. Her footsteps were like nails being driven into my very soul.
She seemed to explode in the doorway. Maybe it was because of my own fear, but she loomed larger than ever, her eyes as hot and as bright as molten lava. She was in a pair of tight-fitting red leather pants, a white blouse, and a red leather jacket. With her face flushed, she looked as if she had been formed out of blood. For a long moment, she just stood there gaping at us, and then she focused on Sophia. I lowered my gaze to the table and held my breath.
“You went to the Mexican fiesta? You followed her there?” she demanded.
Sophia shrugged to make it seem like nothing, but I could see that even her cold, confident heart was finally cringing. Mine was as tight as a fist in my chest.
“We just thought we should check on her, Mother. She’s still a little stupid when it comes to boys.”
“She’s stupid when it comes to boys? Her?” She pointed to me as though she wanted to be certain Sophia was talking about the same girl.
“Well, I just thought since she…I mean, look what happened to her with Mr. Baker, and then Bradley took advantage of her so quickly, and…”
“You idiot. When it comes to men, she’s twice as sly and as conniving as you’ll ever be. She’s my sister’s daughter!”
“Well, I didn’t even know she was your sister’s daughter until after she was here,” Sophia fired back. “How would I know anything about your sister, anyway? Why are you so full of secrets about your own family?” she added, turning to the offensive.
Tía Isabela nibbled on her lower lip a moment and then stepped forward to the table. She put her hands on the back of her chair and glared first at me and then at Sophia.
“You’re not going to change the subject on me like you do so often, Sophia. This is very serious. I want to know exactly what your part was in all this. I have Web Rudin coming here to see you and Delia and me in an hour, but before you speak to our attorney, I want to know every detail about your involvement in all this.”
She stood up straight and folded her arms under her breasts.
“Well? Go on,” she commanded. “And there had better not be a single lie in your story, or believe me, I’ll toss you to the wolves.”
Sophia started to cry. Her ability to turn her tears on and off like a faucet was astonishing.
“No one loves me in this family since Daddy died,” she said through her tears.
“Oh, please.”
“Right away, you assume everything is my fault!” Sophia moaned.
Tía Isabela smirked. “That’s because it usually is, Sophia. And don’t try to play me like you play your teachers and your friends. Unlike most mothers, I never doted on my children, and I never made excuses for their weaknesses and failings.”
“Well, maybe you should have,” Sophia replied. “Maybe then we wouldn’t be in so much trouble.”