What I Know: An utterly compelling psychological thriller full of suspense

by Miranda Smith

  Pam turns rigid. “When children come forward with abuse claims, we believe them.”

  “But Zoey Peterson is not a typical child!” I shout.

  Pam stares, blankly. “Della, I know you’ve had suspicions about her. She rubs you the wrong way… I understand that. But we have no reason to think she would lie about her mother abusing her.”

  “I think she’s lying,” I say. “I’ve met her mother. She didn’t strike me as abusive.”

  “When did you meet her mother?”

  “I went to her house Friday afternoon. During the track meet.”

  “Was there a particular reason for this visit?”

  “I only wanted to meet the woman. Figure out more about Zoey’s background and her home life.”

  “But why, Della?” she asks, confusedly. “You’ve shared your concerns about this student with me, but why would you go out of your way to visit her home?”

  “Look, Zoey has displayed, in my opinion, disturbing behavior. I still believe she wrote that essay. She had me fooled when she pulled the Bad Mom card, but that was before I knew you’d already confronted her. She was bluffing me. That whole conversation. I decided to look into her home life myself.”

  “What happened during the visit?” Pam asks, dryly.

  “Ms. Peterson and I sat on the front porch and drank sweet tea. I was there maybe twenty minutes, but I was able to determine Tricia Peterson isn’t some unstable parent. She certainly isn’t abusive. If anything, she seems scared of her daughter. The reason she doesn’t go to the track meets is because of Zoey. She calls her a drunk skank!”

  “What do you mean she seems scared of Zoey?” she asks. “Did she say anything specific?”

  “She said the best thing for me to do is stay out of Zoey’s way,” I say. “She didn’t give me any particular reason, but I’m telling you, she knows there is something wrong with her daughter. And I know it, too.”

  “Well, Zoey is now the victim. Her mother attacked her.”

  “How do we know she attacked her? What if Zoey attacked Ms. Peterson? Organized this whole event to punish her mother or get her out of the house?”

  “Della, I’m your friend.” She bows her head and shakes it. “But I must tell you, I think you’re reaching here. I can’t just start a campaign against Zoey Peterson based on a hunch!”

  “I’m just saying, how do we know she’s the victim here?”

  “Because Zoey is the child.” She shakes her head again. “You say Ms. Peterson seemed scared of Zoey. But what else did you see? Was she sober? Can you think of any reason why Zoey would want to attack her own mother?”

  I remember the ripe smell of liquor on Ms. Peterson’s breath when she stumbled to stand. But I can’t tell Pam that, not when she is already convinced Ms. Peterson was at fault. “She knew I had suspicions about her daughter. And instead of telling me to screw off like a normal parent would, she warned me. She knew exactly what I was talking about. She did not seem like the type of person who would attack her daughter.”

  “You don’t know how someone acts when they drink.”

  I open my mouth, then stop. Pam excels at her job because of her objectivity, but now I see her opinion about Zoey’s mom is personal, much like my opinion of Zoey. She knows what it’s like to live with a drunk, and now that’s all she sees. Zoey’s situation as a representation of her pain. I don’t know how Ms. Peterson reacts when she’s drunk, but I know Zoey is manipulative. She found a way to use her mother’s condition to her advantage.

  “But it’s the timing of everything,” I start again slowly, calmly. “They just moved here and were left a beautiful farmhouse. Ms. Peterson wouldn’t have a reason to snap now. But if she and Zoey were fighting about something else—”

  “Do you know what they might have been fighting about?” Pam interrupts.

  I sigh and look down. “Before I left, I told her to ask Zoey about the Spring Fling after-party.”

  “Della, what were you thinking?” She plops her elbows on her desk and sighs. “You can’t talk to a parent about something like that.”

  “I was careful. I didn’t mention Darcy’s name or the attack or anything. I only told her to ask Zoey about the party. Which, by the way, she did attend.”

  “Teenagers lie sometimes, Della.”

  “Exactly,” I say. We lock eyes, and I see a hint of worry on Pam’s face. Concern. For me. “I don’t have proof Zoey Peterson hurt her mom. Or Darcy. But I do believe she’s capable of both.”

  “Well, if you want to hold an underage girl responsible for violent crimes, you’re going to need more than a gut feeling,” she says. “And you shouldn’t be investigating on your own. Nothing can be done until a formal complaint is made against Zoey, and that hasn’t happened yet. Considering Darcy can’t remember the attack, I doubt it ever will.”

  “Where’s Ms. Peterson? Maybe now that she’s sober, she can tell police what happened.”

  “She hasn’t said anything about Zoey harming her. She’s currently sitting in jail.” She clasps her hands and looks at me. “Look, as your friend and your colleague, you need to back away. Let this Zoey Peterson thing go.”

  “Where is she staying now?” I ask, wishing Zoey had never walked into my classroom.

  “She’s in CPS custody. They’ll find her a temporary home.”

  “Will she even come here anymore?”

  “Yes, they typically try to find a place within the same school district. We don’t need to disrupt even more of her life.”

  “All right, I guess I’ll have her back in class,” I say, standing.

  “Yes, you will.” She stands, too. Placing her hands in front of her body. “But, please. There are only two weeks left before summer. Let it go.”

  I nod and exit Pam’s office. As I walk through the hallway, I tell myself I’m not crazy. I’m more than just hormonal. Zoey Peterson is a threat, and eventually I’ll make others understand that. One… two… three.

  Twenty-Four

  Now

  I can’t get Ms. Peterson out of my head. I certainly wouldn’t nominate her for mother of the year, but if my suspicions about Zoey are right, which I’m convinced now more than ever they are, who could blame the woman for wanting to check out mentally? She’s raising a potential psychopath.

  People always return to this debate: nature vs. nurture. Did horrible parenting make the kid do this monstrous thing, or was that evil inside the kid all along? I read about the topic extensively in the years after Brian’s arrest, back when I was consumed by answering the question: Why? Why did Brian become who he became? Could something have stopped him?

  I discovered the most notorious offenders typically come from chaotic homes. Some childhoods are so horrendous, it’s no wonder the individual grew up to hate; he or she had spent their entire lives being hated. I imagined how that person might have adjusted if they didn’t have such terrible parents and traumatic experiences. Would they have still grown up to hurt?

  But that’s where Brian stumps me. He’s in that small percentage of people that grew up to commit heinous crimes despite having been raised in ‘normal’ homes. Whatever the hell normal means. My parents weren’t perfect. Mom was checked out, but in a different way from Ms. Peterson. Instead of booze and cigarettes, Mom used her social life as a distraction. She was more interested in looking like the perfect parent than being one. An involved mother would have recognized there was something wrong with her son, like Ms. Peterson clearly has with Zoey. A better mother would do something about it, something neither of the women tossing around in my head did.

  And Dad… he was just Dad. He saw what was inside Brian, but he didn’t have enough time to do anything about it. I like to think, had he not died, he eventually would have intervened. That he wouldn’t have released Brian into the world knowing he was capable of harming others. No, in my mind Brian has always had ‘Nature’ written all over him. He was born to be the person he became. A rougher upbringing would have only made
his behavior more dangerous.

  I’m still on the fence with Zoey. Is she nature or nurture? I don’t know enough about her background to fully decide. Ms. Peterson didn’t appear to be as functional as my parents, but she didn’t strike me as abusive. She seemed afraid of Zoey, all too willing to stand out of her path. I assume that’s why she’s not speaking up now; Zoey can’t retaliate against her if Ms. Peterson stays in a jail cell, and that poor woman was already living like a prisoner. I think of the way Zoey treated her mother, calling her a drunk skank. As I hear the words play back in my mind, it’s Brian’s voice I hear.

  I’m also considering the differences between male and female offenders. Violent women are rare in a statistical sense, but they’re not as uncommon as people think. It’s no surprise Pam and others are hesitant to accept Zoey as a threat; girls don’t typically hurt others the way boys do.

  Most violence stems from a search for dominance, a need to exert power. That much is common ground. Often with men, there is a sexual element involved. That was the case with Brian, and most other monsters we watch on primetime cable. It’s why most people assume Adam targeted Darcy. He’s the angry ex-boyfriend. He can overpower her, take what he wants.

  Women can be just as destructive, although their methods are usually more discreet. They often act out of need, doing what they must in order to gather the resources necessary for survival. Another common motive is revenge. I’ve kept returning to the comment Coach Gabe made when I had gate duty. He said some of the girls had given Zoey a hard time. Hazing her, I presume. Ms. Peterson mentioned this, too. The whole school seems enamored with the track team’s improvement, but that couldn’t have been the case for the girls Zoey replaced. Girls like Darcy. It would explain why the two girls seemed to be arguing at Spring Fling, and why Zoey made insensitive comments after the attack.

  Zoey is also perceptive. It didn’t take her long to pick up on Darcy’s influence at Victory Hills. Maybe she attacked Darcy that night in hopes of retaliating, but was interrupted by the police. Once she saw the school’s reaction, she realized it was in her best interest to keep Darcy on her side. Darcy became her resource. That’s why she’s secured their friendship and done her best to widen the target on Adam’s back. The motives are becoming clearer in my mind, and yet, the proof! Proof is what I need, what everyone else needs, to truly understand what Zoey has become.

  It’s Tuesday afternoon and I’m sitting across from Dr. Walters.

  “What’s on your mind today?” she asks, peering at me through red-rimmed lenses.

  There is a plethora of things I could talk about. This is, usually, my space for making sense of my feelings. I could use an outside perspective more than ever.

  “I did get some news over the weekend.” I look down, playing with the fringed ends of my shirt. “Turns out, I’m pregnant.” This is the realest it’s felt. Saying the words aloud, feeling them leave my tongue.

  Dr. Walter’s eyes brighten, and she lifts her head. “That’s exciting. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” I look down again. Congratulations. This is supposed to be celebratory news, isn’t? It’s only been three days, but happiness hasn’t overridden the shock. “Danny is over the moon.”

  “How are you feeling?” She’s picked up on something. My hesitancy, maybe. Or my worry.

  “Surprised. I’m afraid, really. Considering my childhood.”

  Dr. Walters nods, shifting her weight to the edge of her chair. “Were you planning for this baby?”

  “No.” My voice quivers, feeling permission to explore my uncertainty. “That’s why I’m not as excited as Danny. I was on the pill. I might have missed one or two a while back, but I don’t think I did. It feels selfish to say, but I didn’t ask for this.”

  She nods and settles into thinking position. “What specifically about having children bothers you?”

  “It’s not the baby, obviously. It’s everything else that worries me. The world and the people in it.” I think I’m talking about Brian. I want to be, but in my mind, I see Zoey.

  “You don’t want your child to suffer, like you did at the hands of your brother.”

  “I don’t want my child to turn out like Brian.” I feel tears sitting on my bottom lashes.

  “You must know the likelihood of passing on your brother’s violence is rare.”

  “Rare. Not impossible,” I say, wiping my cheeks. “A little like conceiving while on birth control, I guess.”

  She laughs at this, before settling into a place of comfort. “There’s always a chance a person can be bad, even if they aren’t genetically predisposed. The risk is there, sure. But what if your child turns out like you?”

  I close my eyes. I don’t want a little miniature version of myself any more than I want one of Brian, or Danny even. I want this child to be their own person, follow their own path. I just don’t want that path tarnished by Brian’s actions, or by someone else who has yet to come along.

  “Can I tell you something?” she asks, prompting me to open my eyes. “Lots of mothers feel this way, even the ones who don’t have the experiences you have. Parenthood ushers in fears, but it also brings moments of unspeakable joy. You can’t have one without the other, unfortunately. And as this child’s mother, you have to decide how much of your own experience you want to impart on them.”

  She’s right; I know it. If I’m not careful, I could color my child’s future. I think of where I was in the years following Brian’s arrest. I was bitter and paranoid, allowing the past to define me. I was young, too. Nobody is their fully formed self in their teens and twenties, but I’d been burdened in carrying a heavier load than anyone should. I had to grow up, but I also had to let go. I had to envision the life I wanted for myself, aside from Brian and Mom and everyone else, and fight for it. It’s how I made it to where I am today, even if it feels like the façade is starting to slip.

  “I’m still processing, of course. At least the pregnancy explains why I’ve been so out of sorts lately.”

  “Out of sorts?”

  I’m on a roll when it comes to saying what I’m thinking, a refreshing change from all the thoughts I’ve kept locked inside. “On my last visit, I told you about my student. The one who was assaulted after the school dance.”

  “Yes, I remember,” she says, crossing her legs. “How is she doing?”

  “Darcy still hasn’t opened up about what happened that night.” I look to my left, assessing the clock on the wall for how much time is left in the session. “I think I know who was responsible for the attack.”

  “Tell me about this person. The one you think is responsible.”

  “Well, she’s a new student at Victory Hills. I’ve had some tense encounters with her in the classroom, and I think she had reason to lash out against Darcy. Typical girl stuff.” I sound foolish saying the last part. Typical girl stuff sounds so used, and it usually doesn’t end with someone’s leg being slashed. I consider telling her my concerns that Zoey knows about Brian, but I decide against it. “This girl has a volatile home life, and now I have reason to think she might have harmed her own mother. Problem is, I can’t get anyone to believe me.”

  Dr. Walters sinks into thinking position. She waits several seconds, filtering her thoughts. “You don’t have solid proof.”

  “No. It’s more of a feeling. The way her behavior has changed ever since she’s moved here.” I can’t get into all the details; there isn’t enough time.

  “You said you thought your pregnancy might explain your reaction to this situation.”

  “Well, yeah. I thought maybe I was just being hormonal and emotional.” I want that to be the reason, but I don’t believe it is.

  “It makes sense why you would be so bothered by Darcy’s attack. You don’t think you did enough last time, so you’re trying to right that wrong.”

  I know I didn’t do enough. I’m well aware Darcy reminds me of someone else. “It’s not just that. I want the person who hurt Darcy to b
e punished.”

  “Do you see any connections with the person who hurt Darcy?”

  “Yes, totally. She reminds me of Brian in lots of ways.”

  “Does she remind you of yourself?”

  I lean back and squint. Zoey? Like me? “Not at all.”

  “I’m only wondering why you’re focusing on this student. You’ve already acknowledged you don’t have proof she hurt anyone. Maybe there is something drawing you towards this girl, something besides what you label as her disturbing behavior.”

  “I’m not following,” I say, leaning forward.

  “Your pregnancy represents a new phase of your life. It’s natural for you to reconsider the other phases while you’re processing this one.”

  “I only learned I was pregnant this weekend. I’ve had suspicions about this student for weeks.”

  “Subconsciously, maybe you’ve known longer? You said yourself you thought the pregnancy might explain some of your paranoia.”

  That’s because I’m desperate for something to explain these feelings, something other than I’m crazy or Zoey is a psychopath. “Her familiar behaviors frighten me because I know she’s a threat, not because I think I’m like her.”

  “You say this student is new. She had some trouble in the beginning, but now she’s making friends. She’s got her whole life ahead of her. How does that relate to what you went through at her age?”

  We both know the answer. I felt like I had no opportunities. Brian had taken them from me. Most teenagers spend those years chasing adventure, arms open, ready for mistakes and whatever else might come. I spent those years cradling my mother, trying to piece together the world Brian had wrecked. I couldn’t trust family, friends, myself. Zoey is nothing like that. She’s in control and she knows it.

  Dr. Walters must know she struck a nerve. She’s frozen in the listening position, waiting for me to say something profound.

  “I wouldn’t wish the heartache I went through after Brian on anyone,” I say. Even Zoey. “I think this girl is dangerous. My past doesn’t cloud my judgement.”