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Tara was smart.

She understood.

“You’ve been through so much, Hals,” she continued, skimming a soothing hand up and down my back and tugging me closer. “I can’t even fathom it.”

I nodded, tears trickling down my cheeks. “I know.”

We stayed like that for a drawn-out heartbeat, for one precious moment, where she was my best friend and I was hers, and nothing would ever come between us.

But then she inched back.

Tara stared at me, her gaze hardening to unburnished stone.

She squeezed my biceps, her jaw clenching, expression creasing with new fury. “Listen to me,” she stated, her tone steeped with ice. “This is not your fault.”

Sniffling, I gazed back at her, confusion settling in my gut. “What do you?—”

“This is my father’s fault.”

I blinked, my stomach lurching. My lungs constricting.

Tara snagged my pinkie finger like a promise and squeezed tight.

And then she finished with words worse than death.

“He groomed you, Halley,” she said darkly. “And he won’t get away with it.”

CHAPTER 31

“Daddy, I’m scared.”

The sun beat down on her Care Bears helmet, while two brown pigtails fell over the shoulders of her denim overalls. I held my hands over her tiny fists as they clung with terror to the handlebars. “Don’t be scared, Squirt. I’m right here.”

“But you’re letting go. I don’t want you to let go.”

“I have to let go eventually. How will you learn?”

She pouted, her button nose wrinkling. “I can learn tomorrow.”

“Why not right now?”

“It’s too scary right now. Look, it might rain.”

I glanced skyward, squinting my eyes at the golden globe of sunshine hovering overhead without a cloud in sight. “No rain. Only sunny skies and a father who’s about to be really damn proud.”

Tara’s feet idled on either side of the bicycle as she let out a long sigh. “Mommy says that’s a bad word.”

A chuckle slipped out, and I crouched down beside her on the sidewalk, waiting for her to look at me. When our eyes met, I cupped her scraped knee with a smile. “Hey,” I said, my voice full of reassurance. “You’re going to be really brave today.”

“I don’t feel brave.”

“That’s because you’re afraid. Being afraid always comes first. That’s the first step to being brave.”

She studied me, her big green eyes glistening with tears. “Why are all of my friends braver? I’m six. Everyone can ride without training wheels except for me.”

“Bravery isn’t about comparing yourself to others,” I said gently. “It’s about facing your fears, no matter how big or small they may seem. You’re trying, even though you might fall. And you’re going to get back up again. That’s the bravest thing of all.”

A little tongue poked out between her lips as she processed my words. “You won’t ever let me go, right?”

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