Page 124 of Liam

Liam flicks his gaze between Roman and Dayna, then back to me. I’ve talked to him… in whispers, but never about my therapy sessions.

“That’s good, right?” Roman asks, the hopefulness in his eyes tugging at my heart.

I nod, and he sits back in his chair, releasing the breath he’d been holding.

“Do you want to—” Dayna starts, then cuts off quickly. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you.”

“I think…” I look over at Liam, and he nods once, encouraging, even though he has no clue what I’m about to say. “I think I’m ready to talk about it. Not… the memories that came back to me… but about the breakthrough I had. Well, two of them, actually.”

“Okay…” Dayna says. “We’re ready when you are.”

I adjust in my seat, trying to find the courage and the words to begin my explanation. Not so much for me, but forthem, so they can understand why I am the way I am. “We—my therapist and I—figured out why I shut down the way I do.” I keep my gaze lowered, my body rocking back and forth on its own. “Why I stop talking, and eating, and sleeping…” I swallow the knot in my throat. “Whenever I brought it up with my parents—the man who took the photos of me—they would tell me to keep my mouth shut, and as punishment for mentioning it, they’d starve me.” I glance up at Roman, then right back down when I see the tears in his eyes. “When you picked me up from school that time, you asked me if it was the longest I’d gone without food, and I lied to you. I’m sorry. I was scared. And that fear never went away—that fear of revealing too much… so I shut down. Keep my mouth shut like I should’ve back then. I’m scared to eat—eatingisn’t part of the punishment, and Ican’tsleep, because I’m afraid when I open my eyes… he’ll be there again.”

“He’ll never be there again,” Roman spits, and I lift my eyes to his. “You know that, right, Addie?”

“I know,” I say, and I can’t stop rocking, can’t stop fidgeting with my clothes. “But…”

“But what, sweetheart?” Dayna encourages.

“But…” I stand, no longer able to sit still, and I pace, tiny steps one way, tiny steps back. I can’t look at any of them when I speak, too filled with fear of their reaction. “My therapist says—and I think she’s right…. there are two sides to me—not like, bipolar or a personality disorder, but…” I trail off, searching my mind for the right words. “There’s the version of me now, headstrong, confident, stubborn, almost—always in fight-or-flight mode because I’m constantly trying to protect that little girl,” I cry, try to breathe through the pain. “And then, there’s a part of me whoisthat little girl.” I wipe at the tears, release the sob I’ve been hanging on to since this morning’s breakthrough. “That little girl who knows right from wrong, but can’t do anything about it. The one who couldn’tshowher emotions, and now struggles to regulate them. Sometimes, I’m that little girl who’s trying to find her innocence, because it was stolen from her, and because—” I can’t see through my tears, can’t breathe through the anguish, and suddenly, I’m that little girl in her big brother’s arms while he shields her from the evils of the world, even when he knows it’s too damn late. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’m sorry I haven’t been?—”

“Addie, stop, please.” His arms tremble, loosen around me. “We’re going to get through this, okay?”

I nod, sure of it. And turn to Dayna standing right beside me. “I’m going to be okay. I promise.”

“I know, Addie,” she cries, pulling me into her embrace. “And we’ll all be right here with you.”

Liam comes next, and I fall into his arms, lay my head on his chest. His heartbeat has been my only source of comfort for days now. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“Are you kidding?” he murmurs. “I’ve waited fifteen years for you, Addie. I’d wait a hundred and fifteen more.”

49

Addie

“He’s not here, Addie,” Liam says, his voice cracking.

I turn to him. “How do you know?”

He grips the steering wheel tighter, blinking away the fatigue. It’s just after midnight, and he’d just fallen asleep when I forced him to wake up, get out of bed, and drive me around as if he was being paid. He wasn’t. And while I feel horrible for doing this to him, it was something Ineededto do. My soul couldn’t rest until I did. “Because his truck’s not here.”

“His truck is probably scrap metal by now, remember?”

Liam peers through my window toward the dilapidated house. All the lights are on, music is blaring, and two men sit on the crooked steps, smoking what I’m positive isn’t cigarettes. When we first pulled up, they both lifted their heads but lost interest within seconds. “He got a new truck,” Liam says. “I’ve seen it around town. And I’m telling you, Addie. He’s not here. Do you know where else he might be?”

Liam doesn’t ask questions when I tell him where to go. Not even when we pull up to the closed security gates and I give him the code for the panel. He drives through the undeveloped corner of the estate, where a lone truck is parked, the bed facing the cliff edge. “Is that his truck?” I ask.

Liam doesn’t respond, just pulls up next to it. Wyatt’s sitting on the tailgate, looking out at the town below.

“I’ll be back,” I murmur, opening the door. I pause halfway, turning to Liam. “Thank you.”

Liam nods, his eyes half-hooded. “Go talk to him, Addie.”

I close the door and round the minivan, my steps slowing the closer I get. Wyatt hops off the tailgate when he deems me close enough, his eyebrows lowered as he looks down at me.

I had so many things I wanted to say, but now that I’m here, I can’t come up with a single word.

But I don’t need to speak, don’t need to reveal a thing.

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