Someone's in the kitchen

To your surprise, you hear the girls downstairs as you step out of the bathroom. You ignore them for the moment, and head into your bedroom. Nadia is still asleep, her silken form lying under a worn quilt. Her beauty, at odds with the decaying furniture and blankets around her. Add it to the list of things to fix.

You pull your pistol from your bundle of soiled clothes and set it on the nightside table while you get dressed. Another pair of jeans, another black v-neck. You slide the pistol back into your waistband and weave your belt through your pants belt loops. The cold metal feels strange against your bare skin as you sinch the belt tight.

You check your phone again. Nearly eight. You spent a long time in the shower, you realize. Your thoughts were more occupied than you knew. More time wasted.

You leave Nadia asleep and head downstairs to check on the girls. You find them in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Mia wears her pajamas from the prior evening: cotton shorts, and a tight black tank top with spaghetti straps. Karina wears something new: light grey cotton sweatpants, the waistband rolled over to make them taut over her rear, and a white wife-beater. You see the faint shadow of a maroon bra underneath.

The two girls are murmuring amongst each other, and something about their body language tells you to stop and listen. You lean against the entryway, just out of sight, and strain to hear.

"...tell him..." Mia says, most of her words lost. Her face is hard, the normal mousey, timid girl gone. "You know...... help you."

Karina looks at her friend in agitation and shakes her head. "No," she begins, the rest of her words lost to the sound of bacon sizzling in the frying pan.

Your chest tightens. You don't know what they're talking about, but it seems that Karina is struggling with something. Something that Mia feels she needs help with. You have never seen Mia act so forceful, so sure of herself. The shift in her personality causes you to worry more.

"If not for you...." More bacon sizzles. Mia drops some eggs into another pan, continuing, "...others. What about them?" Her voice rises at the end, anger seeping into her words.

Karina looks at her friend and shakes her head no, again. You recognize that head shake. It was usually accompanied by tears.

"I can't," Karina says, the first words you heard clearly. "You know what will happen."

Mia rolls her eyes. "Of course I do. That's why I brought it up." You realize the bacon is no longer sizzling. The eggs are done. "Breakfast is done. Do you want to go get them?"

Karina starts to turn, but Mia grabs her arm and stops her. "Think about what I said, Karina. If not for you, then for them. There might be others." She lets go, and Karina continues away from her friend without a word.

You see her coming, and you decide to step into vision. You take a few steps back, as if you were just coming downstairs, then walk into the kitchen. Karina freezes when she sees you, looks back to Mia, then to you again.

"Good morning, girls!" you say, trying to keep your tone joyful, despite the contradiction you felt in your heart.

"Daddy," Karina says, her voice low and weak. A faint smile tries to spread across her lips, but it never takes hold. Something is definitely bothering her. You walk to her and wrap your arms around her in a tight hug.

"What's wrong, Karina? What's bothering you?" you ask. You see Mia over Karina's head, standing by the stove, her expression stern. She says nothing.

"Nothing, daddy, nothing." Your daughter breaks your hug and wipes her eyes with her hands. She tries to push the feelings away, and you can't help but wonder if you did something wrong. Was it last night? Did she regret it? The thought eats at you. Had you damaged her, abused her?

She tries to move past you, but you stop her. No, no matter what it is, you'll work through it with her. Even if it is your fault. You guide Karina to the kitchen table, pull out one of the worn wooden chairs, and plant her into it. You sit diagonal to her in another chair. Mia stays by the stove, behind you, waiting.

"Karina," you say, "I can tell something is bothering you. Will you tell me what it is, so I can help you?" You place your hand on the table for her, an invitation for support if she needs it, and she takes it. Tears fill her eyes. "Are you upset about last night? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, dear, I never...," you continue.

"No, Dad, that's not it." Her voice breaks. "That was one of the best moments of my life." A tear streaks down her cheek. She looks over your shoulder, presumably at Mia, and gulps. "I... I wasn't going to talk to you about this. But last night... It... triggered me. Brought back memories. Mia says I need to talk to you about something. Something I did." She averts her gaze, no longer able to look you in the eye.

You know how these conversations go. It is never something good. A dull, spreading warmth fills you. What words is your daughter going to speak? You brace yourself, your heart thundering in your ears as you wait for her to say. To your surprise, she says, "you remember, how I used to do gymnastics before senior year?"

"Of course I do," you answer, "you were wonderful at it. I remember all of the competitions you went to. And won!" You try to joke, but it falls flat. Karina seems barely able to speak, and Mia appears beside you. She stands behind her friend, resting her hands on Karina's shoulders, gently rubbing her. You look into Mia's eyes, and you see a firm resolve there, accompanied by sadness.

"The last competition," she stutters, "you remember how I got into an argument with Coach Smith, and that's why I quit?" The tears flow freely down her cheeks now. "That wasn't why I quit." She pauses, takes a deep breath, and steels herself. Her voice is calm, at odds with the tears flowing down her face, and she continues, "It wasn't an argument... he... Coach Smith **** me." She turns away from you entirely, into Mia, and begins to cry. Her friend simply strokes her hair, her gaze meeting yours. Her eyes are full of iron and blood.

The words hit you like a cargo truck on the freeway. ****? Karina? Your daughter? The thought sinks through your mind like a stone to the depths of the ocean, whirling tornados of emotion forming with each instant of its fall.

"I'm sorry, daddy, I didn't want him to. I begged him to stop, but he made me do it. I..." Karina begins, her broken words barely intelligible through her sobs.

You barely hear her words. Karina, your daughter, was **** by that man. That animal. That disgusting piece of shit, a man you trusted to safeguard the most important person in your life, had **** her. Absent-mindedly, you stand from the table. You pull Karina up from her seat and wrap your arms around her. Mia still caresses her hair from behind, trying, in vain, to calm her. The room melts around you. The floor turns to magma, the walls wilt, and the ceiling begins to cave in. You fight at the cloying sensation, the numbness that tingles through your limbs, your daughter in your arms the only thing keeping the suffocation at bay.

****?

"It isn't your fault, Karina," you hear yourself say. The words are distant, as though spoken through a tunnel and lost to the echoes of too tight walls. "It could never be your fault. Coach Smith did this to you?" Your voice isn't your own.

A faint nudge against your chest. Her head, shaking yes. Your eyes meet Mia's again, and you understand why Mia was pushing Karina to tell you. Why she thinks you could help. After last night, she knows exactly what kind of man you are now. The kind of things you will do.

You beat down the anger inside of you. The hate. The pure, unadulterated rage that seethes through your nerves and clouds your vision with each breath you take. There will be a time for that. To direct it. To release it. But for now, you need to support your daughter. To be here for her, after she just shared one of the most traumatic things that could ever happen to her.

"I am here for you, my dear. Whatever you need, I am here," you say to your daughter, whispering the words into her hair.

She gently pushes you away and blots her eyes with her hand. For the first time since she spoke those words, her eyes meet yours. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a broken whisper.

Your rest your hands on her shoulders, looking back into her, and say, "Karina, you should never apologize for what happened to you. This is one person's fault, and that person is not you. I'm sorry I never knew, sorry that I couldn't help you sooner."

"I couldn't tell you... I didn't want you to be disappointed with me. To hate me. Every day that passed by after it happened, I felt that feeling grow. Like if I told you, I would lose the fragile relationships we had. Mia tried to get me to tell you, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't lose you."

And the other shoe dropped. Your thoughts struggled to place the pieces of information together. Your daughter, having been **** by her gymnastics coach, was deprived of your love and affection out of a self-induced idea that telling you what happened would drive you away. Her attempts to push Nadia away. Your poor daughter, after being **** and traumatized, had developed an Oedipus complex. A complex that the app had empowered. Pushed to its limit. Over the limit and beyond. As it had with the others, it allowed her to be her true self. Her broken self.

Your daughter's love for you. Her desire for you. Your time together, last night. The feeling of her against you. All due to the horrible actions of a single, despicable man. The realization nearly breaks you. Your own tear flows down your cheek, to know that everything you enjoyed together was born out of such evil. Such disregard for the girl you love.

"I love you, Karina. No matter what," you say, pulling her back into your chest and sinking your cheek into her hair before she sees the tears falling down your cheeks. "I mean it. No matter what happens, I love you. I will never leave you."

You look at Mia again and see faint tears falling down her cheeks as well. You open your arms to her and invite her into your hug. She joins you, her hands sneaking around your waist and wrapping Karina in a cocoon of warmth. You stay like that for a few minutes, before Karina pushes you both away.

"I... I'm okay," she says, her face still flushed and eyes still red despite her words. "Daddy," she says, looking at you. "What are you going to do?"

You feel the weight behind her words. The question she is asking. You meet her gaze, your voice full of grit, and say, "I'm going to make sure he never does this again, to anyone."

Karina simply nods. A few moments pass, then Mia says, "good."

"I'm going to get Mom," your daughter says and disappears upstairs.

Mia turns to you, her stern gaze finally faltering. "Thank you, Lev," she says, wrapping her arms around you in another hug and pressing her face into your chest. "I've been trying to get her to tell someone since it happened. She only told me. Please, hurt him. Hurt him for me. For her. Don't let him go unpunished for what he did to Karina."

"I won't," you answer. Mia looks up at you, then leans in for a kiss. Her lips linger for a moment, then break away when you hear footsteps coming downstairs.