Page 113 of Love is Angry

“She has dementia and a severe case of hydrocephalus,” Sibel replies. “He covered the shunt implant, the care that followed. He pays five thousand dollars a month plus medical and psychiatric fees that aren’t covered through her Medicare.”

I give her hands a gentle squeeze. “Sibel, if it’s about the money for her hospice and medical bills, I’ve got more than enough to make sure your mother is well taken care of. I’ve got a property you can move into, as soon as tomorrow. It’s not a lakeside manor, but it’s big and spacious and safe, first floor of a secure building. You have to help me.”

“Rhue…” There is pain in her voice. Fear. Doubt. But I have to shatter it all if I’m going to get through to her.

“This is for Madison. My father has hurt her enough. Don’t let her die because you can’t find the courage to speak up. Dammit, Sibel, I love her!”

The words surprise even me, but I can’t take them back. They’re as true as any I’ve ever said. Madison snuck into my soul and never really left. I’ve felt her in my arms. Drawn out deepest desires. Reveled in her scent, her soft skin, her good heart—and her brilliant mind.

Noelle offers a warm half-smile. “You can talk to us, Sibel. It’ll feel amazing. You’ll get this huge weight off your chest, and maybe you’ll get to save Madison’s life, too.”

Silence settles between us. It’s a heavy and thick kind of silence. It fills my chest with something dark and unpleasant, like the prologue to a horror story. The anticipation of something far worse awaiting just ahead. Just out of sight or around the corner.

Sibel looks at me, and I see her naked soul unraveling in the dark pools of her teary eyes. “He raped me, yes. Julian Echeveria raped me. I was working late one night. I stopped by the house to pick up some papers that I needed to look through for Roxanne. She was out of town, coming back in the morning. Julian, he’s an opportunist. He doesn’t plan these things. He just… he was there, and I couldn’t stop him.”

“He did the same to Madison,” I tell her.

“Yeah, only he couldn’t scare me away like he did with Madison,” Sibel replies. “I don’t think I was his first, either. This was a few years back, Rhue. There must have been others between Madison and me, I’m sure. He likes the thrill. He loves it when a woman just stumbles onto his path, ripe for the picking.”

Noelle shakes her head slowly. “I’m sorry you had to suffer through that, Sibel. It’s very brave of you to tell us about it now. I want to remind you, that per our verbal agreement from this morning, I am recording. Keep going, love, you’re doing great.”

“Brave, huh,” she scoffs, wiping tears with the back of her hand. “Was it brave to just move on like it never happened andshow up at work the next day? Let him get away with it like he always does?”

I see it clearly. She despises herself. Thinks that so much of what happened is her fault. It’s not just my father’s threats that are eating her alive, it’s her guilt, too.

“Julian probably figured I would quit, that I’d never be seen again. I certainly knew who I was dealing with. What his name represented in this city. I never would’ve said a word, to be honest. He scared me. But I didn’t want to lose my career because of him, either.”

“So, you went back to work like nothing happened,” I say.

“Yes. I put on concealer, I popped a morning-after pill, and I tried to move on. Got tested for any STDs, just in case. But when Julian saw me, he went pale,” Sibel continues. “I think Roxanne knew what kind of horny fucker she married. She never left us alone in the same room. Not even for a second. I think, deep down, she suspected something had happened.”

Noelle makes a sympathetic noise in her throat. “When did Julian start paying you off?”

“Oh, he asked me to quit, first,” she chuckles bitterly. “Like I’d not made it clear enough that I was keeping my job as soon as I walked through the mansion doors the morning after. He gave it a couple of days before texting me. He must have fished my number out of Roxanne’s phone. When I said I wouldn’t, he pulled some strings or something because I started getting job offers on LinkedIn. Different charities from out of state that were hiring. They offered a bigger pay, better perks than my job as a PA for Roxanne.” Sibel pauses and takes a deep breath. “But even then, I said no. I didn’t want to be in his debt. I didn’t want him to have any control over my life.”

The more she talks, the clearer this picture becomes. My father didn’t hound her the way he did Madison because Sibelmeant a little bit more to him. And my mother probably knew something had happened between them.

“Did Mom ever say anything?” I ask.

“Not at first, though she probably had an inkling. Julian ultimately offered me money. This house. A monthly stipend, plus my mother’s care covered. He said he took pity on me, the prick.”

Noelle doesn’t believe that. “I don’t think he did. I think you scared him. Most likely, he hoped he might get you back into the fold. Willingly, the second time around. Did he ask you?”

“Repeatedly. Until maybe a couple of months before Roxanne died,” Sibel says. “Something changed. He got quiet, but the payments kept coming in, so I thanked the stars and kept a low profile. It was too late for me to say or do anything, anyway. I’d sold my soul to the devil.”

“He probably had another opportunity with Madison, and Sibel was no longer—interesting?” Noelle suggests, giving me a questioning look.

“It’s a possibility, for sure. But the only person who can tell us what’s in my father’s sick head is my father.” I turn back to Sibel. “And my mother? You texted her about the rape. You said my father did the same to you, or wasn’t that the topic?”

Sibel closes her eyes for a second. “Madison told her about the rape. She asked me if Julian had ever been untoward, and I asked what the question was really about. She called me, wanted to get to the truth, you know? But I hung up, said I was busy. At work, Roxanne was respectful. She tried to bring it up a couple of times. I made her understand that I wouldn’t talk about it—and then, that night––I don’t know. I felt bad, so I texted her. Told her Julian had done the same to me. The next morning, she’s dead. Suicide.”

“Oh, lord,” Noelle breathes, running a hand over her face.

“It’s why I’ve been quiet and, well, here. Always in here,” Sibel says. “Because if my worst fear is true, and Julian killed Roxanne, it’s only a matter of time before he figures out he can ‘suicide’ me, too. I’m staying out of his way, Rhue.”

“You think he killed Roxanne?” Noelle asks. My words have left me. I’m just staring at Sibel, mindless and stunned as I try to wrap my head around this terrifying clusterfuck.

Sibel nods. “If I stay here and say nothing, he won’t—” And then the words stop and her throat bursts open, blood and cartilage spurting out. The projectile pierces through the wall to my right, plaster splintering. Sibel chokes and loses that last breath, eyes wide open in shock.

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