Chapter 6 - The TruthI glanced at the frozen video. "What does your sister have to do with what happened to my car?"
"Nothing."
"That clearly isn't true."
Corinne rubbed both hands over her face. Then, finally: "I borrowed her truck."
My stomach dropped. "When?"
She didn't answer. I already knew. "Two weeks ago?"
Corinne closed her eyes. That was all the confirmation I needed.
Suddenly, every strange thing that had happened over the previous year felt different. The trash cans. The missing hose. The cut hose. Every time I'd questioned whether I was imagining things, every time I'd wondered if I was unfairly blaming her simply because we hated each other.
Now she was sitting in my kitchen, and I finally had my answer.
"You painted my car."
She opened her eyes. "I was angry."
I laughed once. There was nothing funny about it. "You covered my entire car in paint because I complained about your dog?"
"It wasn't only about that."
"Then what was it?"
"You always acted like you were better than me."
My mouth fell open. "I asked you to stop your dog from destroying my flowers."
"You embarrassed me by reporting me to the HOA."
"Your dog tore up my garden three times."
"I know."
"No, Corinne. I don't think you do."
She stood suddenly. "I didn't realize fixing the car would cost that much."
"That's what you have to say?"
"I'm not defending myself."
"You came to my house five minutes ago screaming that you'd destroy me because someone did exactly the same thing to your car."
Corinne looked away. That seemed to finally hit her.
I picked up my phone. "I'm calling the police."
Her head snapped toward me. "Marlene, wait."
"No."
"Please."
That word stopped me for half a second. I had never heard Corinne say please to me before.
"I'll pay to repair your car."
"You should've offered that two weeks ago."
"I was stupid."
"You were cruel."
Her expression slowly crumbled. Not dramatically — she just looked exhausted, like all that anger had finally burned itself out.
"Sabine found pink paint on my clothes," she admitted.
I looked toward the footage.
"She kept asking me where it came from. I told her it was nothing."
"She figured it out?"
Corinne nodded. "She saw your car yesterday afternoon. Then she called me last night."
"What did she say?"
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Corinne gave a miserable little laugh. "She told me that if I wanted to behave like a child, she was going to make sure I understood what it felt like."
I looked through the window toward Corinne's white-painted car. Suddenly, everything made sense. It hadn't been random vandalism. Her sister had been sending her a message.
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