“I slipped and knocked the plate off the counter,” I said desperately while shaking from fever and cold. “Then she dragged me outside by my hair!”
Tiffany laughed quietly and looked at my father with disbelief. “David do you really believe I would hurt her like that?” she asked softly.
“Look at my head,” I begged while pushing my wet hair away from my scalp.
My father stepped closer and examined my hair for a moment before shaking his head slowly. “Your scalp is red but you were outside in the cold rain for a long time,” he said calmly.
The room felt like it was spinning around me.
He did not believe me.
Tiffany gently placed her hand on his arm and spoke about how emotional the anniversary week had been for me. She suggested that grief sometimes caused teenagers to act irrationally.
My father sighed heavily before turning toward me again. “Enough arguing for tonight. Grace go take a hot shower and calm down.”
The conversation ended there and nothing I said mattered anymore. Later that evening he stood outside the bathroom door and spoke through the wood quietly.
“You owe Tiffany an apology for the way you behaved today.”