Chapter 6 - The Dark Truth of 1984
Denise sat at our kitchen table, a steaming mug of black tea untouched in front of her. She looked at Lily, who was resting against my chest, and a profound, mournful sadness washed over her face.
“She looks like Thomas’s side of the family,” Denise whispered softly. “Not like Sharon at all. Sharon had bright red hair and blue eyes. Your mother is hallucinating what she wants to see.”
“Denise, tell us what happened in 1984,” Tyler pleaded, leaning forward on the table. “The newspaper clippings said the coroner found contusions on Sharon’s wrists. They said police questioned Mom.”
Denise closed her eyes, taking a slow, painful breath. “Deborah has spent forty years playing the grieving, saintly sister. But that’s not the truth. The truth is that Deborah was a deeply disturbed fourteen-year-old who resented Sharon with every fiber of her being.”
I felt a chill creep up my spine. “What do you mean, resented her?”
“Sharon was the miracle child,” Denise explained. “My brother Thomas and Evelyn tried for ten years to have a second baby. When Sharon was born, Deborah became invisible in that house. Everything was about Sharon. Sharon’s dance classes, Sharon’s dresses, Sharon’s smile. Deborah went from being the adored only child to being a glorified teenage babysitter.”
Denise reached into her purse and pulled out a faded police report photocopy from July 1984.
“The morning Sharon drowned, a neighbor across the cove saw Deborah dragging Sharon by the wrists toward the end of the boat dock,” Denise said, her voice dropping to a tight whisper. “Sharon was screaming, crying that she didn't want to get in the water. She couldn't swim. Deborah was screaming at her: *‘If you want to be the center of attention, let’s see you swim!’*”
I gasped, covering my mouth with a trembling hand.
“The neighbor didn't think much of it at the time—just sibling fighting,” Denise continued. “Ten minutes later, Sharon was in the lake. When the police questioned Deborah, she claimed Sharon slipped while chasing a dragonfly and that she tried to catch her by the wrists, which caused the bruising. But the divers found Sharon’s body sixty yards from the dock, near the deep intake pipe. There was no way a six-year-old who couldn't swim drifted that far on a calm morning without being pushed or panicked.”
“Did my dad know?” Tyler whispered, tears welling in his eyes.
“Thomas suspected,” Denise said quietly. “It broke him. It’s the reason he drank himself into an early grave, Tyler. Evelyn, your grandmother, had a psychotic break because she knew her oldest daughter had destroyed her youngest. But to protect the family name in Greenville society, they buried the investigation. They called it an accident. And Deborah… Deborah coped with her monstrous guilt by rewriting reality.”
“Rewriting reality,” I repeated, horror dawning on me.
“Deborah couldn't live with the reality that she caused her sister’s death,” Denise said. “So she created a fantasy where Sharon was an angelic being who was merely ‘temporarily away.’ Over the years, Deborah’s mind completely shattered that boundary. When she found out you were having a girl, Tyler, she convinced herself that the universe was giving her a chance to undo the crime. In her mind, if she raises Lily as Sharon, the drowning never happened. She’s innocent. Her sister is back.”
“And if we don’t let her?” Tyler asked, his voice shaking.
May you like
Denise looked directly into my eyes, her face stark and terrifyingly serious. “If you stand between Deborah and her redemption, she will not view you as family. She will view you as the obstacle stealing her sister away again. She has nothing left to lose. Watch your child, Julia. Because Deborah will take her.”
***
