Page 91 of The Truth of Our Secrets

There are pictures of Alec and Madyson cozy with their heads together like they’re sharing a secret. Another one with her fingers in his hair. It’s weird. Was Peter jealous of Alec? Alec’s unapologetically gay.

The next picture stops my heart.

So much blood. It’s everywhere and I can’t stop it. My hands slip in it when I try to stop the bleeding. My sister is crying and I’m dialing 9-1-1. She’s limp and unconscious. The person on the phone asks me questions, but I can’t answer.

I’ve been expecting this day for years, but it doesn’t feel real. Part of me is outside of myself, watching the scene unfold as if it’s happening to someone else. My sister sits on the bench seat of the kitchen table with her feet up and her arms wrapped around her knees, rocking. She won’t get over this.

This one act blows away all the work I’ve done to keep my family together.

This is it. The end of my family.

Our lives will never be the same.

“Emmet, talk to me. You’re scaring me.” Madyson’s high-pitched voice brings me back. “Oh my God.” She takes the picture out of my hand. “Where did this come from? Is this the day…” She can’t say the words out loud.

My head’s a thousand pounds as it tips forward, and it’s so hard to bring it back upright. She flings her arms around me. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re right here.”

Her words are hollow, ringing in my ears. Loud rushing drowns out their voices of concern. I sink, kneeling on the floor to catch my breath.

The blood paints rivers behind my eyelids, so I shake my head to knock the image loose, but it doesn’t leave.

I’m living in the nightmare of the worst day of my life. The day my mother tried to end her life and my sister found her first. Luckily, I gained temporary custody of my sister, but a year later, after a follow-up visit from Child Protective Services, they removed her from my mother’s care. That day was the beginning of the end.

My heart’s beating too fast. It’s not healthy.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe with me.” Madyson’s voice has an edge. She’s not calm. She holds my head to her chest. The comfort helps me breathe.

No one has ever been there to comfort me when things go wrong.

Jayce’s large palm runs soothing circles around my back. I sink into his touch. It would be so easy to let them take care of me. To let them hold me until the pain recedes. My muddled mind can’t make sense of anything.

Alarm bells blare so loud it’s impossible to ignore them.

“Where did you get that picture?” My hoarse voice demands.

Jayce

It’s excruciating watching Emmet fall apart. He’s shaky and pale. I should’ve been closer to catch him when he dropped to his knees.

Guilt twists my gut as I see the picture in Madyson’s hands. The one Peter used to convince me that Emmet must be cut out of our lives. Emmet becomes a child in my arms, riddled with terror.

Madyson does her best to calm him, but I’m not sure he can hear her. He’s lost but we’re here for him. We won’t let him go.

My hand reaches out to let him know he’s safe. We won’t let the past hurt him.

He leans into my touch, and hope flares. We can tell him the truth and he’ll be able to trust us again. He has to forgive me. Us.

I made everything worse. My fear caused me to hide the truth.

My intent to protect Madyson cost her years with Emmet.

Maybe she isn’t meant for me. Maybe I only delayed the inevitable.

His body spasms under my hand.

His brown eyes find mine full of accusations. “Where did you get that picture?”

Emmet shakes us off, rising from the floor.

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