Page 107 of The Roads We Follow

“Freedom and peace workin tandem. And you won’t experience either until you’re finally willing to be transparent with yourself and others.”

Tears burn behind my eyes as I surrender my heart to this difficult truth and to the God who is not afraid of the secrets I’ve kept, or the masks I’ve hidden behind for years.

Unbidden, I picture the conclusion of my fiction novel: three sisters hugging it out under a night sky full of stars, vowing to fightforeach other and not against. It’s an ending that seems so unrealistic compared to where my own siblings and I are currently at with one another, and yetThe Sisters of Birch Groveis not the only ending I’ve read recently. There’s another story with eerily similar themes about the complexities of sisterhood. One with a bittersweet ending that didn’t come until after thirty years of silence and regret.

When we veer off the highway onto an old country road, I stare out the window to see a patchwork of green—from trees, to grass, to forested mountains and lush valleys. It’s passing by me in such a blur, but the longing I feel to stop and set up camp here is nothing short of overwhelming. To know the kind of freedom Micah speaks about at a soul-deep level feels impossible, and yet I want to believe it can be mine, too.

If I’m willing to be honest.

“Please pull over, Adele,” I say, leaving no time to second-guess.

Hattie’s head swings around the passenger seat, and Adele flicks her gaze to me in the rearview mirror.

“We only have an hour to go,” she refutes. “I’d rather wait until we’re—”

“It’s an emergency.” I don’t know how my voice doesn’t tremble at these words or what will happen after I step outside this Jeep,but I do know this is where the hiding has to end for me. And, I can only hope, for all of us.

Adele pulls off to the side and taps her emergency flashers. When I step onto a patch of lush green grass and wildflowers, I face the Jeep and study the two of them through the windshield.

Please help me, God. Meet us here.

Adele and Hattie glance at each other and then crack their windows.

“Raegan, what on earth are you doing?” Adele asks.

“I want to talk.”

“Then why did you get out of the car?”

“Because I want to talk out here, the three of us.”

She must see I’m willing to wait her stubbornness out, because Adele is the first to unclick her seatbelt.

“This is ridiculous,” I hear her mutter to Hattie from behind the protection of the glass.

Begrudgingly, they step out of the car and assess me. Adele does, anyway. Hattie hasn’t made more than 2.3 seconds’ worth of eye contact with me since last night.

I meet them halfway. “I haven’t been honest with either of you.”

Adele narrows her eyes at me as if I left my frontal lobe back on the tour bus. “We’re aware.”

I shake my head. “You’re not, actually; there’s a lot more to it than the events of the last two weeks.”

Adele holds out her palms and begins to head back to the Jeep. “I can’t do this again, Raegan. I physically cannot do another big round of—”

“I screwed up by not telling you what I found out as soon as I heard it. I was wrong. And I was scared. And I’m truly, deeply sorry for everything my actions may have jeopardized for you personally and for the label you’ve worked so hard to save since Daddy died. I know you’re furious with me, but I hope, in time, you can forgive me.”

The raw apology hangs between us, and it must be enough to make her reconsider going back to the Jeep because she turns around.

I look at my middle sister. “And I’m sorry, Hattie, for convincingmyself I was protecting you from more hurt when really I was protecting myself by avoiding a conversation I was too afraid to have with you.”

I gesture to them both. “I don’t want this to be where our sisterhood fractures beyond repair. And it could be, if things continue on like this.” I expect some pushback from Adele, but she only stares at me. “I always believed some big scandal was the reason for Mama and Lynn’s breakup.” I shake my head. “But I read her journals. Twenty years of friendship and music were destroyed due to unresolved resentments.”

I press my lips together and draw from a strength that is not my own. “The truth is, I’ve been carrying around a lot of unspoken resentments, too. I’ve resented being a full-time employee of the family, where every boundary line seems blurred. I’ve resented that my relationship with my oldest sister is only defined by her role as my boss. I resent the lack of autonomy I have over my schedule—that how I spend my time, and who I spend that time with, and what I spend that time on has been dictated for me in the name ofthe family business. And I resent that I’ve been asked to minimize the thing I’m most passionate about by the person whose opinion I’ve always respected most.” I purse my lips. “But not nearly as much as I resent myself for not speaking up sooner.

“I’ve spent far more time worrying about how you see me, Adele, than asking God what He sees. I convinced myself that my usefulness to this family was synonymous with my value. And I actually believed that creating a secret identity and writing under a pen name would be a better alternative than standing my ground.” I search the unsettled expression on my sister’s face. “Sometime in the years since Daddy died, I’ve lost the ability to separate what it means to be a daughter and sister from what it means to be a Farrow.” A tear slips out from the corner of my eye. “And I desperately want to find that again, which is why I won’t be working for the family any longer.” My lips quiver. “I’m quitting, effective immediately.”

I expect Adele to meet my statement with a rebuke—tell me howimmature and self-centered I am to bail on the family after all the heartache I caused last night—only, Adele doesn’t look ready for a fight. She looks ... tired. Weary. Broken.

---