This chapter was really hard to write, but I needed to do it. Spencer finally tells the girls what happened with Ian. This chapter can be skipped if it's too hard to read. The whole chapter is Spencer's confession to the girls.

TW: description of the sexual assault of a minor, self-hate

Chapter 39: Truth

Emily's POV

I close the bathroom door behind me, my heart pounding. The lightness of my interaction with Spencer vanishes, swallowed by the weight pressing down on me. My hands tremble, and I press them against my jeans, desperate to steady myself, but it's no use.

How am I supposed to help her when I can't even help myself? I want to be her anchor, her calm in the storm, but right now, I'm the one drowning. The tightness in my chest intensifies, and the panic begins to rise. I curl my nails into my palms, the faint sting anchoring me just enough. I can't fall apart—not now. Not when Spencer needs me.

I force myself to take a step forward, my legs unsteady beneath me. Spencer doesn't deserve to shoulder this alone, but how can I support her when I'm barely holding it together? She looked so fragile back there, her strength barely holding her together, and it tore me apart to see it. All I could think was how I wasn't enough—not strong enough, not steady enough, not whole enough.

When I push open Spencer's bedroom door, Hanna looks up immediately, her leg bouncing like a jackhammer against the floor. Perched on the edge of Spencer's desk chair, she drums her fingers against the armrest. The movement stops when she sees me, her eyes scanning my face with a mix of concern and frustration, as though she's been waiting for answers I can't give.

"Well?" she asks, her voice cutting through the tension. It sounds impatient, but I know Hanna. It's not impatience—it's nerves.

Aria glances between us, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. She's sitting cross-legged on the bed, her posture unusually stiff. "What's going on? Can someone please tell me why we're all here?"

I drag a hand through my hair, my fingers catching at the ends. My mouth feels dry, and I wish I had the words to make this easier for everyone—but I don't. "Spencer… she wants to talk to us," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

I cross the room to Spencer's closet, rummaging for something to change into to replace my damp clothes.

"About what?" Aria presses, her eyes wide with unease.

Hanna shifts in her chair, her leg bouncing again. She opens her mouth as if to speak but then hesitates, her uncertainty palpable. The fact that she doesn't comment on why I need to change speaks volumes. She's just as nervous as I am. Normally, she'd have made a quip by now, but the tension in the room has stilled even her sharp tongue.

"She'll explain," I say quickly, stepping into a pair of sweatpants. "It's better if she tells you herself." I glance at Hanna, and her face softens slightly, though the tension in her jaw remains.

Aria's expression stays frozen, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Is she okay?" she asks, almost afraid of the answer.

I swallow hard, the tightness in my chest returning. "Not really," I admit. "But it's Spencer. She's strong."

Hanna lets out a soft snort, but there's no humor in it. "Too strong," she mutters. Shifting in the chair, she runs a hand through her hair. "But last night was… I don't know. Bad." Her voice wavers at the end, and she averts her gaze, her fingers once again drumming against the armrest.

Aria looks at her. "What happened last night? What am I missing?"

Hanna's eyes flicker to mine, and my stomach churns. She's waiting for me to explain, to take the lead—but I don't know how. How can I explain what I don't fully understand? I turn my back to them, pulling on a clean shirt, hyper-aware of the scars on my arms.

"Spencer will tell you," I say again, my voice firmer this time. I meet Aria's gaze, then Hanna's. "She just needs us to listen, okay? No questions, no interruptions. Just listen."

Hanna nods, though her fingers keep drumming. Aria doesn't look convinced but leans back slightly, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Are you okay?" Hanna asks suddenly, her eyes darting to me.

The question catches me off guard. For a moment, I don't know how to respond. Am I okay? No. Not even close. I've been leaning on Spencer, on Hanna and Aria, for months. And now that Spencer needs me, I'm terrified I'll fail her.

"I'm fine," I say too quickly, the words stumbling out. Hanna raises an eyebrow but doesn't push.

The silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating. A soft creak from the hallway breaks it, and my breath catches. I turn toward the door, heart pounding.

Spencer's POVI sit cross-legged on my bed, my knees bouncing uncontrollably. No matter how hard I try, I can't make them stop. My chest feels tight, like it might cave in at any moment. Emily is beside me, her hand resting gently on mine, but my skin feels raw and exposed. The air in the room feels heavy, suffocating, pressing down on all of us. I swallow against the dryness in my throat, but it feels like sandpaper.

"You don't have to rush," Emily whispers, her voice as soft as the thumb stroking the back of my hand. The slow, steady circles should ground me, but instead, I feel like I'm unraveling. "We're here when you're ready."

I nod, but my head feels impossibly heavy, weighted down by the enormity of what I'm about to say. My heart thunders in my chest, loud enough that I'm sure they can hear it. I glance at Aria, who offers the smallest, hesitant smile. Her brown eyes are filled with confusion, but there's so much compassion there, too. Hanna shifts beside her, reaching out to grab Aria's hand, like she's steadying both of them.

The sight of it makes me want to stay silent, to keep pretending everything is fine. It's moments like these that remind me why I never said anything before. I didn't want to burden them. I didn't want to break the fragile balance that holds us all together.

And, deep down, I was afraid. Afraid they wouldn't believe me.

The words are stuck, buried under years of fear and shame. Now that I've decided to let them out, I don't know where to start.

Emily leans closer, her shoulder brushing mine, and suddenly, I feel the weight of her love. Of all their love. They're here because they care, because they want to help, but I can't shake the voice whispering in the back of my mind. They'll see you differently. Once they know, they won't look at you the same way again.

I take a shaky breath and grip Emily's hand tightly, almost too tightly. I'm afraid I might hurt her, but she doesn't flinch. Her fingers stay steady, offering comfort I don't feel I deserve.

"I'm scared," I admit, my voice barely audible, cracking as the words leave my throat. I hate how small I sound. "I don't even know how to say it."

"Start wherever you can," Emily says softly, her tone steady and patient. "There's no right way, Spence. Just… let it out."

Her words wrap around me like a lifeline, and for a fleeting moment, the tightness in my chest eases. My gaze falls to the pattern on my comforter, and I trace the lines with my eyes, trying to untangle the mess in my head. The words are still caught in my throat, but they're inching closer, breaking through the layers I've built around them.

I take another breath, deeper this time, and close my eyes. "It's Ian," I say, the name falling into the silence like a stone. My voice trembles, but I force myself to keep going. "It's always been Ian."

And just like that, the dam begins to crack. Emily and Hanna already know this part, but Aria's wide-eyed expression tells me she doesn't. She stares at me, her shock almost tangible, yet there's something in her eyes—understanding, maybe—even though I haven't really said anything yet.

Once I start talking, the words won't stop. "It happened a few years ago, when Melissa was dating him. I never told anyone, and I never planned to. Melissa would kill me if she knew."

Hanna shifts slightly, ready to speak, but Emily gently shakes her head, silently asking her to hold back. Thank God for that. If someone interrupted me now, I don't think I'd be able to start again.

"I think…" My voice wavers, but I force myself to continue. "I think maybe I liked the attention. Maybe I even flirted a little. I don't know." I drop my gaze to the floor, unable to meet their eyes. I can't bear to see judgment—or worse, pity. "He was the first person in the family who seemed to see me, who liked me for who I was, not just for what I achieved. We started spending more time together. And since he was my field hockey coach, it felt normal—or at least, I thought it did. Melissa and he actually fought about it a lot... and looking back, I wish she'd won. I wish he'd left me alone."

The words hit me like a tidal wave, and I break down as I say them. I never let myself believe things could've been different. I always thought it was my fault, that I invited it somehow. I buried it, chose to lock it away, and didn't let myself think about it—until the other night with Emily.

Emily's grip on my hand tightens, steadying me. The girls stay quiet, their silence giving me the space I need.

"One day, we were alone in the backyard, practicing. He wanted to show me a new technique, so he stood behind me." My voice falters, and my throat feels tight. I don't know if I can say the next part, but it's like the words are clawing their way out. "He… he ran his hand from my shoulder down to my stomach…"

I reach instinctively toward my stomach, but Emily stops me, catching my hand in hers. She holds both of my hands firmly and looks at me with so much love, her eyes filled with vulnerability and quiet strength. She nods slowly, encouraging me to go on.

I take a shaky breath, the air rattling in my lungs. "He slid his hand into my pants. It was the first time anyone ever touched me. I… I hadn't even touched myself back then." I bite my lip, the discomfort crawling under my skin as I wrestle with the words I need to say.

I pause, unsure how to speak without it sounding too crude, too raw. The last thing I want is to make the girls uncomfortable—or worse, put images in Emily's mind that she can't shake. But I have to keep going. I owe it to myself after all this time.

"I was so confused. I never thought he would do that. I froze—I didn't know what to do. But he… kept going. He didn't stop. Not until I… came." My voice falters, each word tasting bitter as it leaves my lips. "His hand was everywhere. He was in me. It hurt—a little—but I still came."

I chance a glance around the room. The girls are silently crying, tears streaking their faces, but none of them speak.

"He told me he knew I wanted it, that my body had proved it." My voice trembles, and I feel like I'm crumbling under the weight of his words. "I didn't know better. I thought he was right. A part of me still believes he was."

I pause, swallowing hard. "It didn't stop there. That day it did, but… I could feel him pressing against me, against my ass, rubbing himself on me." My stomach twists at the memory. "Eventually, he let me go. But before he did, he reminded me that if Melissa ever found out, she'd be furious—with me—for seducing her boyfriend."

I stop, my chest heaving. The next part feels like a wall I can't scale, but I know I have to. It's the worst part—the part I hate myself for. I don't know what's worse—the memories themselves or the fear that they'll haunt me forever.

Aria quietly reaches for the glass of water on my nightstand and hands it to me. I don't meet her eyes, but I whisper a soft "Thank you" before taking a sip. The water steadies me, just enough to keep going.

"A few days later, we were alone again." I force the words out, my voice shaking. "We… had sex. For the first time." I close my eyes, hating myself for even saying it. "And then it happened a few more times before Melissa broke up with him and he wasn't allowed back. He tried to reach out to me, but I ignored him as best as I could. One day, he just up and left. I never heard from him again."

I stare at the comforter, my fingers twisting the fabric. I can't bring myself to look at them. My chest feels tight, like I can't catch my breath, and the weight of their presence presses down on me. I want to be alone.

But I don't want them to leave.

"It wasn't sex," Hanna whispers, breaking the silence.

My head snaps up, confused.

"You didn't have sex with him, Spencer. He raped you," she says, her voice steady but soft.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I wince, shaking my head vehemently. No. She's wrong. She has to be. Shame washes over me, heavier than anything I've ever felt.

"I'm sorry," I choke, the words spilling out in a broken whisper. "I'm so sorry, Emily."

Emily shifts beside me, her hand gripping mine tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Spencer," Emily whispers finally, her voice breaking on my name. The raw emotion in her tone makes me flinch, but I don't pull away. "None of that was your fault. Not a single moment of it."

I shake my head, the words catching in my throat. "You don't understand," I manage, my voice barely audible. "I didn't stop him. I—"

"You were a child," Hanna interrupts, her voice trembling but firm. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and for once, her usual sarcasm is absent. "He was an adult, Spencer. He manipulated you. He—" Her voice cracks, and she presses a hand to her mouth, taking a deep breath before continuing. "He abused you. And it's not your fault."

Aria shifts on the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her eyes are wide and glassy, and she looks like she's struggling to process everything. "Spence," she says softly, her voice shaking. "You didn't deserve any of that. You know that, right? None of it."

I glance up at her, and the sincerity in her expression makes my chest tighten. I want to believe her, to believe all of them, but the shame and doubt are too deeply ingrained. "I don't know," I admit, my voice breaking. "I don't know how to feel about it. It's all so… complicated."

Emily shifts closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. She rests her head against mine, her presence grounding me in a way I didn't think was possible. "You don't have to figure it out all at once," she murmurs. "We're here for you, okay? Every step of the way."

Hanna nods, her jaw set with determination. "She's right. You don't have to do this alone. We've got you."

Aria leans forward, her hands clasping mine over the comforter. "You're brave. And you're still you. We love you, no matter what."

The weight of their words washes over me, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself believe them. Just a little. Tears spill over, and I don't fight them. Emily pulls me into a hug, and the others quickly follow, their arms wrapping around me in a protective cocoon. It's overwhelming, but it's also comforting in a way I didn't know I needed.

For the first time, the walls I've built around myself start to crack, letting in the warmth of their support. It's messy, and it hurts.

How are you all feeling? I know I'm a bit of a mess after this.
I hope I was able to portray this hard reality in a way that still showed Spencer's strength and courage and the girls anger at Ian without forgetting the important part: compassion for what Spencer endured.