"I do listen to you," the older woman said.

"Bullshit!" Grace shouted. "I told you." She clenched her hands into fists. "I told you and you didn't believe me."

"Please don't bring that up again," her mother said. "You know how it upsets me."

"Upsets you?" Grace yelped. "If it upsets you, you wouldn't be with him." She angrily kicked at a stone. "You're not upset about what he did, you get upset because I won't just pretend it didn't happen like you want me to." She stormed toward her mother, causing the older woman to back up and unbeknownst to her, Instructor Donaldson to come running toward them. "Well, it happened, Ma! That son of a bitch came into my room and raped me and you let him get away with it. Are you listening to me now?"

"Waters," the blonde instructor said as she approached.

Grace felt a firm hand land on her shoulder but jerked free. "You want to be with him? Then go." She pointed at the gate. "Be with a son of a bitch that has a thing for little girls. I hope you're real fucking happy."

"Grace, please don't be like this," her mother said, dabbing her eyes.

"Like what?" Grace shouted, taking yet another step toward her mother. "Like someone who won't go back to that hellhole?" Her eyes narrowed. "Never! Do you hear me? Never!"

"Waters!" Donaldson's sharp bark snapped Grace back to the moment. Looking down at her clenched fists, she realized just how close she had come to losing control. Forcing her hands to relax, she saw the crescent red marks where her nails had bitten into her palm.

"Don't come back," she said, glaring at her mother with all the anger and outrage she felt inside. "You had a choice and you chose him. As long as you're with him, you don't have a daughter."

"Grace-"

"No!" She turned away, feeling her throat tighten. "You were supposed to believe me, to..." Her eyes stinging, she closed them and shook her head. "Don't come back." She began walking toward her father, ignoring her mother's repeated calls to her. Never. I'll live with Dad or I'll get a place of my own or I'll be homeless, but I'll never go back there. I can't. She blinked rapidly as tears threatened to spill out. I'll kill myself first. Seeing her father holding his arms out, she ran the remaining distance.

"Come here," he said. The tenuous hold she had on her emotions broke as soon as she was in her father's arms. She began crying, scalding hot tears soaking into his flannel shirt. "Tell Daddy what happened," he said, stroking her head like he did when she was young.

All Grace could do was shake her head and cry, taking comfort in his strong arms.

"Okay, pumpkin, okay. Daddy's got you," he said over her sobs. "Shh, Daddy's got you."

"Mr. Waters, if you'd like to take her inside." It was Carey's voice, though Grace had not heard her approach.

"Do you want to go inside?" he asked. Grace sniffled and shook her head, clinging tighter to his shirt.

"There's a lake up that path," Carey said. "She knows the way."

This time Grace nodded. "O-okay." She felt a hand much smaller than her father's gently rub her shoulder.

"Grace," Carey said, giving a gentle squeeze. "I hope you have a good talk," she said before stepping back. "Take all the time you need."

Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Grace pointed at the path. "It's this way," she said, keeping one arm around her father's side. His arm went around her shoulders and they quietly began walking up the dirt path, gradually becoming surrounded on either side by trees with only the sounds of birds and crickets to keep them company.

"I love you, pumpkin," he said. "Whatever it is, you can tell me." "Daddy..." It felt so strange to her to say that word after so many years. "Dad. I've done things...I mean..." She looked down the path unable to make eye contact. "I...I'm not a virgin."

"I suppose I'm too late for the father-daughter chat, hmm?" he said, gently squeezing her against him. "I hope you used protection and that you cared for him."

"You'll love me no matter what?" she asked, feeling her throat tighten as the lake came into view.

"No matter what," he said.

Grace disengaged herself and sat down on a fallen log. She rested her elbows on her knees and stared at the ground. "I don't know if I can tell you this."

He sat down next to her. "I suppose you're too old to sit on my lap?"

She nodded. "At least six years," she said. "But..." She lifted his arm and he shifted closer, allowing her to rest her head against his chest. "You always wore flannel," she said, inhaling the scent of her father's cologne and smiling at the memories it evoked.

"That's what you get for having a lumberjack for a father," he said. "But you graduate from college and I'll buy whatever suit you want me to wear. Come here." He pulled her closer, then kissed the top of her head. "You want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "Not now," she said, snuggling against his chest. "But sometime, maybe."

"Whenever you're ready," he said, stroking her hair. "Anything you want to tell me."

"Anything?"

"Anything," he repeated, giving her a gentle squeeze. "So, any boyfriends?"

Grace smiled and rubbed her cheek against the soft flannel. "No."

"Girlfriends?"

Her head shot up. "Why would you say that?"

He chuckled and pulled her back against his chest. "You said no to a boyfriend so there's really only one other option unless you plan on going into the nunnery."

"I don't have a girlfriend either," she said. "Would it bother you if I did?"

"I told you," he said, rubbing her upper arm. "If you're happy, that's what matters."

Grace was quiet for several moments before gathering up the courage to speak. "Dad? What if I told you I think I'm gay?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" He gently rubbed her shoulder. "I love you, Grace. You can't help who you love and if being a lesbian feels right to you then that's just the way it is," he said, kissing the top of her head. "You're old enough to know how you feel about that."

Taking a deep breath, she brushed her cheek against the red flannel of her father's shirt. "It does feel right," she said.

"So tell me," he said softly.

"I'm...I'm a lesbian, Dad."

"And you're still my little girl and I love you," he said, his blond beard scratching her forehead. He released her from his embrace and swung his leg over the log so he was facing her. Using his thumb, he wiped away the moisture on Grace's cheek. "Of course no one will ever be good enough for you in my eyes," he said, causing her to smile. "Does your mother know?"

Grace shook her head. "No."

"Why?"

She straddled the log, then began picking at the bark. "We don't talk about things like that." A sliver of bark went flying. "Ever." Another piece. "Even when..." The pain, still so close to the surface, threatened to bubble over. "Even when I told her, she wouldn't believe me," she said, her fist coming down hard on the log. "I told her and she fucking didn't believe me."

"I'll believe you," her father said, covering her fist with his hands.

"You can tell me."

"I can't." Despite her earlier words to the contrary, she climbed onto his lap, feeling his strong arms holding her safe. "I love you, Dad," she said, burying herself against him. "Please don't make me go back and live with them. Please."

"Your mother?"

Grace nodded and sniffed. "And her asshole boyfriend." She gripped handfuls of flannel. "He...he..." She shook her head. "I can't go back there."

Richard let out a deep breath and hugged her tightly. "Will you answer a question for Daddy? Pumpkin, did he touch you?" She let out a strangled cry and burst into tears, her control breaking. "Okay," he said, rocking his sobbing daughter. "You don't have to go back there. We'll work it out. Shh. Daddy's got you."

"Don't make me go back."

"I won't," he said.

She sniffled and gripped his shirt tighter. "I can't. He's too strong. I…I…”

"Okay," he said tenderly. "Shh. You're not going back there. I promise." His gentle words and comforting embrace gave Grace the cocoon of safety she needed to let out the tears if not the words.

Carey rolled over and opened her eyes, realizing the sound she was hearing was not part of a dream. It took a few more seconds for her to wake up enough to determine the cause of the keening cry. Grace. Hopping out of bed, she moved to the living room. "Grace," she said softly, reaching for the lamp. The light showed the teen twisted in the blankets, her face wet with tears. "Grace," she said louder, kneeling down next to the couch. "Come on, you're having a bad dream." Without thought she reached out and stroked the young woman's hair. "It's all right, Grace." The cries became more desperate and Carey had to back up when the teen's arms began thrashing about. "Grace. Grace, wake up now."

"No...help, help! No!" Grace shot up into a sitting position, eyes wild.

"Shh, Grace, it's just a bad dream," Carey said, putting her hand on the teen’s shoulder. Slowly the blue eyes focused on her. "Easy now, just a bad dream."

"Oh God," Grace whispered, burying her face in her hands. "It seemed so real." Carey remained quiet, giving her time to form her thoughts. "It felt like I was right there." Grace took a shuddering breath, then another. "It was so real. I just..."

"Keep going," Carey urged, gently rubbing the upset young woman's shoulder. "It won't stop until you let it out."

The teen shook her head, tears leaking out between her fingers. "I can't."

"Yes you-can," Carey said.

Grace fought to control herself, then laid back down, her tears glistening in the lamplight. "I'll be okay," she sniffed. "Sorry I woke you."

"It's all right you woke me," Carey said, pulling the covers up over the teen. "But as for being okay..." She tucked the blanket around Grace's shoulder. "That won't happen until you stop giving him control over you and talk about it. Grace, did you tell your father what happened?"

Fresh tears leaked from upset blue eyes as the teen nodded. "A little. I couldn't tell him all of it, I just..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "It hurts."

"I know it does," Carey said, using the corner of the sheet to wipe the tears from Grace's face. "And the more you fight it the more it's going to hurt until you get it out. You deserve to get past this," she said, giving Grace's shoulder one last squeeze before standing up. "You really do." She walked over to the lamp, turning the knob and sending the room into darkness. "Try to get some rest," she said, fighting the urge to sit in the recliner until Grace fell asleep.

"Thanks, um...ma'am."

Carey smiled in the darkness. "Instructor Carey doesn't fit any better at a time like this, does it?"

"No," Grace said. "Joanna doesn't seem right either."

Moving to the archway, Carey leaned against the wall. "My friends just call me Carey. Between us and only in private," she said.

"Of course."

"Now go to sleep."

"Good night...Carey."

"Night, Grace."

Grace showed up at formation seconds before Instructor Gage called Attention, saving her from having to speak to Latisha or Jan. The words being said might as well have been in Hungarian for all the meaning they had to her, empty sounds fluttering through the air. Unfortunately for her, there was no way to avoid conversation at breakfast. She mumbled hellos to those that greeted her but kept her eyes down and on her tray as she moved through the line.

"Hey girlfriend," Latisha said when Grace arrived at the table, tray in hand.

"Hey," Grace said without enthusiasm.

"What's the matter, Scary on your case again?" Jan asked.

"Just tired," Grace said, keeping her eyes on her tray and not on her friends.

"Too bad," Jan said. "So what do you think, is Short Shit going to have us run five miles today?"

"Who cares," Grace said. "Pass the syrup."

"Who put the boot up your ass?" Jan asked as she handed Grace the squeeze bottle.

"I told you, I'm tired," Grace said, putting the bottle on the table with more force than necessary. "Could they water the syrup down just a little more?" she said, stabbing at the waffle. "Of course they wouldn't need to if they'd make the food at least partially edible," she said, her voice rising. "What the hell is it with the damn waffles?" She let the fork drop. "They're not that fucking difficult to make."