Kat's Fall by Shelley Hrdlitschka

of crap.”
    The room is quiet. My dad is glaring at me. The Kippensteins are watching the cop, who is making notes in a small book.
    “Darcy, you’re to stay completely away from Samantha Kippenstein until this investigation is complete,” she says.
    “You don’t need to worry about that.” I refuse to look at the Kippensteins. I can’t believe they’d accuse me of doing anything to hurt Sam.
    “Will Katrina’s mother be willing to keep Katrina with her until I’ve finished my investigation?” she asks Dad.
    He nods. “Probably.”
    “How long can this possibly take?” I ask. “You’ll get an interpreter to talk to the girls today and then you’ll find out there’s been some big mistake.”
    “Hopefully that’ll be the case,” she says. “I’m just covering all my bases.” She pushes back her chair and stands to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”
    The Kippensteins’ follow her out the door, shutting it firmly behind them. I’m left with Dad and a horrible silence.
    “I didn’t do anything,” I tell him, finally.
    “Yeah? Then why did the kid say you did?”
    “I don’t know. But I didn’t.”
    “We’ll see about that, won’t we. In the meantime, you’re grounded. No phone calls, no friends over, no nothing. You’re not to leave this house except to go to school.”
    I just stare at him. How can he be so stupid? Has he never noticed that I don’t get phone calls or visitors anyway? I slide by his bulk in the doorway and slam shut the door to my room. I hear the front door slam in response, and then the engine of his car revs into life. I open my drawer and pull out my knife. Stepping out of my body, I watch myself cut.

    I STAY IN my room the rest of the weekend, mostly sleeping or staring at the ceiling. The phone keeps ringing— it’s probably Gem wanting to return the dog—but I don’t answer it. I study the fresh wounds on my arms and realize that the cutting hasn’t solved much. How could anyone hurt Sammy? And why would Sammy say I did it? There’s no doubt that she’s been abused—it explains all her strange behavior—but why say it was me? Is she scared to tell the truth for some reason? And do the Kippensteins really think I’d do something like that? I can’t believe it. They trusted me with their daughter. I thrived on their trust.
    The answer hits me hard. It’s because of my mom. They think I’ve turned out bad because she’s bad. I pull the blankets over my head.
    L ATE S UNDAY AFTERNOON I hear the doorbell ring and then my dad calls me into the living room. The cop is standing there, looking grim.
    “What?”
    “An interpreter has spoken with both your sister and Samantha Kippenstein.”
    “Yeah, and?”
    “I think you’d better sit down, Darcy.”
    I glance at my dad. He won’t make eye contact with me. He pulls a cigarette from his pack and lights it. I slump onto the couch. I feel a sick sensation deep in my gut. The cop sits down in Dad’s armchair and faces me.
    “What does Samantha call you, Darcy?”
    I think about that. Kat and I understand her speech, and so do her parents, but I doubt anyone else would. “She tries to say Darcy,” I tell the woman, “my Darcy, but it comes out garbled.”
    “And when she’s signing? What word does she use then?”
    Usually we’re signing directly to each other so we don’t need to use names, but I remember Kat using the sign for the letter D to talk about me to Sam. I tell the cop that, wondering about the point of her question.
    She nods and then glances at my dad. “Samantha is still saying that the person who…who hurt her is the person she calls D.”
    My dad erupts. “You stupid little ass! I can’t believe my own flesh and blood…”
    “That’s enough, Mr. Fraser,” the officer says with a sharp glance at him.
    I feel the blood rushing from my head, leaving me dizzy.
    “The interpreter has also spoken with your sister,” the policewoman continues.
    “Don’t tell me,” my father