A bitter taste slithers across my tongue. Is that what Victor Keller did? Made her do? He made her feel like she has to be ashamed.
"Why would you hide it?" Anger coats Jenn's question.
Denielle turns her head, and I get the profile of her pinched smile. "The night Marcus's sister died was the night I had my first episode. My father wasn't there to save her. He was called out of the OR because of me."
My body heats with white-hot rage. Her father had drilled into her that this was something she had to hide from the world. Did he also make her believe that Ken's death was her fault? Was this why she took my hate all those years? His pristine scrubs got a stain. He was the one embarrassed and put the burden on his daughter—after everything he had already put his family through with his affair. The pounding in my ears mutes Denielle's next words as she shifts in my arms.
She talks to the room but speaks only to me. "It's not recognized as a mental illness. It's only diagnosed as a phobia. There is no known cause for it. Some believe one is born with it, or that it's triggered by a change in brain function. Others believe it's a result of a traumatic experience." She regards me, waiting.
"Your mother," I complete the statement for her.
"Yes," her voice cracks. "Mom's death was ruled an accident, but…I don't know."
No one dares to breathe.
"I found her journal during the move and hid it. I didn't read it until years later. I have no clue how long they'd been going behind Mom's back, but she knew of the affair. She'd also been on antidepressants for years. In some entries, she wrote how she hated the way the meds made her feel."
Denielle's nails bite into my hand, but I welcome the pain. I'd take anything that helps her work through this.
"There has always been the nagging thought ofwhat if it wasn't an accident?" She pauses again. "Oli refuses to acknowledge the possibility, and I stopped pushing. He had enough to deal with, keeping my…secret."
"But why keep it a secret?" Lilly's agitation is palpable.
Denielle slips out of my embrace and positions herself next to me. Pulling her legs up, cross-legged, she takes my hand and clasps it between both of hers. "Pride?" She lifts a shoulder. "My father and Celine got married just a few weeks after my mother's death. It was a courthouse ceremony. They kept our new family dynamic hush-hush. I pieced the time line together over the years. At four or five years old, I didn't understand a lot of what was going on. We stayed in my mother's family home at first. Celine inherited it after Mom's death. It had been in their family forever. But then I had the…"—she licks her lips—"accident. I never tried to hurt myself. Self-harm has never been the reason," she quickly adds and makes eye contact with everyone.
"Then why?" Lilly whispers.
"The night of… I found a picture. Of my mom. Dad and Celine had removed all her photos—to make it easier for us."
Rhys snorts, and I couldn't agree with him more.
Denielle hollows her cheeks. "I remembered everything. The helplessness. Watching my mother float underwater, unable to do anything about it." A lone tear spills over. "I screamed. The same way I cried for help that day. Celine came running in and tried to comfort me. But her touch… Her arms were too tight. I couldn't breathe. It made me…sick. I can't explain it. I lose control. It's like my body turns against me. Everything from nausea, to utter panic, and sometimes even physical pain. It's…" She breaks off, her fingers wringing together in her lap. "I got away from Celine and ran through the house. I ended up at the pool. It was like the water was calling for me, so I jumped in, and…" She peers sideways at me. "When I'm underwater, the fear, the panic, and…the pain goes away. I'm in control. I control how long I stay under. The sensation of floating, the burn in my lungs. I'm in charge of it all."
"You stayed under a bit too long, though," Jenn inserts herself. She is oddly composed, but then, she grew up in an environment no kid should experience. Hell, most adults couldn't handle it.
Denielle dips her chin. "Yes. There have been a few occasions where I've lost track of time, needing the burn. But I've always come back up—with the exception of the first time. I don't know if I got too tired?" She side-eyes me briefly. "McKenna's death was ruled an accident. Aneurysms can't be predicted, but my father's career took a hit, nonetheless. I'm not sure if the hospital blamed him. Maybe some of his colleagues said something, or it was because I was brought in that night for possible drowning. Who knows what the rumors about me were, but my father moved us to Westbridge within a few weeks."
"So, in short, he blamed you." Jenn steps away from the wall and muses noncomically to Ethan, "And here I thought we had an asshole for a father."
Ethan, in return, just inclines his head but remains otherwise void of emotion.
Denielle scoots closer, and my hand drapes around her lower back, slipping under the long-sleeve shirt. My fingers draw circles on her naked skin, and she leans her head against my shoulder. She shivers as goose bumps erupt under my touch.
Lilly stands andmarchesover to us. She takes her friend's hands in hers, studying them with her mouth in a grim slash. "I'm only going to say this once. You are my best friend. Have been for the past twelve years. You were there for me when I doubted my feelings, thought there was something wrong with me. None of this is your fault. Don't. You. Dare let anyone ever make you feel ashamed. We love you. And fuck everyone else. Who gives a shit?"
Denielle bursts out laughing, in complete contradiction to the waterworks running down their faces. "The only thing missing is a bunch of naked girls and a stinky drain." She hiccups.
Lilly grins, and my brows draw together.
What the—?
Denielle smiles at me, wiping under her eyes. "She's repeating my words back to me. From the day she figured out she was in love with Rhys."
Oh.
Rhys stands, pulling his wife to her feet. He hugs her from behind and rests his chin on the top of her head. "And I will forever be grateful for you, even though you hid her for the next twenty-four hours."
"Sorry?" Denielle shrugs.