She nods, a sign for me to continue.

“Yes, I went to homecoming and had fun, up until the part when the janitor attacked me, and now everyone thinks I’m still a whore, and he came after me because I was asking for it, or something.”

I can see the concern on Sarah’s face, but she stays calm. “But you didn’t. “

It’s not a question, exactly, but she’s clearly asking me to defend myself. Like she knows the answer, but she needs to hear me say it.

I swallow. “No. I didn’t.”

“The police have looked into his history. He’s got a background of violent behavior, but nothing that indicated why he would risk coming after you where he works. It’s unusual. Most of the time, pedophiles who actively abuse children have a history. Prior offenses. But he flew under the radar. To think that he was a janitor at a high school the entire time…”

It’s now or never. “He wasn’t just the janitor,” I say.

She puts her hands around her coffee cup, like she’s suddenly cold and needs to absorb its warmth. “Who was he?”

“He used to see me in New York. He used to…you know. That’s why my dad was so angry. It’s like I brought him back with me.”

Sarah’s gaze doesn’t break, but she bites her lip awkwardly, thinking.

“How did you feel about seeing him here?” she eventually asks me.

“What do you mean, ‘How did I feel?’ He attacked me. What don’t people get about this? They think I asked for that? That I asked for all of this?”

I know she doesn’t mean any of that, but the words are out of me before I can stop them. Because people do blame me. Or they will. As soon as they know the truth.

“Some people might think it’s your fault,” Sarah says calmly. “I don’t. But I need to make sure I understand it completely. I can’t keep you safe until I know if this man was a friend or someone you might want to protect.”

“Protect? He’s disgusting. I’d lock the key myself if I could.”

She reaches over the table and rests her hand on top of mine. “Actually, you can. If you really mean it.”

“What?”

“If he was one of the men who paid Luis to sleep with you, your testimony can put him in jail.”

I look up. “What about Luis? Won’t they use my testimony against him, too?”

She takes a deep breath. “The way the system works is they need evidence to put people in prison. There’s a chance they’ll both go free without your testimony.”

My hands start to shake. “Both of them? Even the janitor?”

She holds on tighter to my hand. “Even the janitor.”

“But he came after me at school. Everyone saw it.” For better or worse.

“Yes. They saw him come after you. But that doesn’t prove that he was going to rape you. And it doesn’t prove that he ever did before.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s the same for Luis. We’ve found that we don’t have any proof that he’s solicited sex for you, that he was your pimp. He’s saying that the men you slept with, well, it was all your choice.”

I look back and forth. It’s like I’m pressed against a wall, nowhere to go. My choice? He’s saying it was my choice for all of those men? All of the johns. Including the janitor.

I had to sleep with those men. We needed the money. But I didn’t ask for the janitor to become obsessed with me. I didn’t ask for him to come after me now.

How am I supposed to explain that to anyone? They’ll tell me I asked for it. If I didn’t want him to come after me, I never should have said yes. Not even once.

Luis knew that. When he saw what happened, how the janitor beat me up, he threw the janitor out and told him to never come back. Doesn’t that count for something?

“Can’t someone else testify against him?” I whisper.

“If you won’t testify, they’ll probably ask the janitor to. They’ll offer him a deal. Admit his guilt, but get reduced time in jail for coming out against Luis and telling everyone what happened to you.”

“So what does this mean? That I’ll get in trouble?”

“No, no. You’ve done nothing wrong. You were—and are still—under eighteen and under the age of consent in New York. The trouble is, or should be, all on the men who’ve had any sexual contact with you. It’s just that we can’t give them justice without a little help.”

The waitress comes back now to see if we want to order some food, and I use the time to let what Sarah’s asking settle over me.

She wants me to testify against Luis.

My heart is pounding; my eyes are wide. I don’t know what to do, what to say.

Sarah asks the waitress to give us some time alone. When the waitress is gone, Sarah turns back to me.

“Anna, listen.”

I stand up and look at her. I like Sarah, a lot. But I love Luis, or I did, I don’t know. He hurt me when he threw me out. But that doesn’t erase everything he did to take care of me. He was good at first. He cared at first. Surely everything that came later doesn’t erase how we were at the beginning.

I can feel the tears welling in my eyes.

She grabs my arm softly, which makes me feel like it’s defeating the purpose. “No one is going to make you do anything, I promise.”

She lets go of my arm, but I don’t move. Finally I sit back down, but I’m still breathing heavily. Nothing about this is okay.

“It doesn’t sound like you have a problem putting the janitor in jail,” she says.

“He deserves it,” I say.

“Okay. Why is Luis so different?”

I open my mouth to speak, but I close it. Now I’m afraid of what I’ll say. If I say the wrong thing, they’ll use it against me. Against him. He’ll go to jail.

The only way to make her understand is to tell her the truth. Even if she’ll find it impossible to believe.

“Luis was my boyfriend, not my pimp.”

“But he sold you to other men, made you do…”

“No! He never made me do anything.”

“But he pushed you.”

“Please,” I say, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. “Stop, I can’t do this.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she says in a whisper. “I don’t mean… I’m not trying to hound you, or question you. I just want to understand, Anna. The way I see it, he used you. You were just a child. I wish you could see that.”

I shake my head. That was always the problem—everyone saw me as just a child. Luis was the only one who treated me the way I wanted to be treated.

“I’m going to ask you one last thing, Anna, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

When I don’t speak she takes it as consent. “Did you want to sleep with those men?”

My heart drops. No. I want to yell it, scream it. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!

But I don’t. I can’t.

I get up and walk out into the parking lot alone.

Chapter Thirty-Four

I’m quiet when I walk into the kitchen, and I’m surprised when my mother isn’t there. Zara stands at the glass door, watching me, so I slide open the door to let her in. She sniffs at my feet, her little stump of a tail wagging eagerly. I pat her head absently, knowing that’s not the kind of attention she’s looking for. I’m just not able to give her anything more right now.

It feels very different here today. The house is quiet, still. Like it’s waiting. Holding its breath to see how the shit settles after hitting the fan yesterday. Zara eventually gives up with me and walks across the room to sniff her empty food bowl.

I take a step toward the hall, figuring I might as well retreat to my bedroom where at least things are the same kind of weird they’ve been for the last few weeks, but then my mother emerges from the hall looking tired.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she says.

I smile. “Hi.”

“I made some brownies earlier. Want some?”

I’m really not hungry, but for some reason I nod. Her eyes grow brighter, and I’m suddenly glad I didn’t say no.

I sit at the counter and watch as she microwaves two huge pieces and pours two glasses of milk. She sets one plate and one glass in front of me, and I take in a deep breath and watch as she takes a small dainty bite of her brownie with a fork.