Page 156 of Misery
"Said I'm the reason you almost died. The reason his fingers are gone. The reason Mom got hurt. The reason the club lost members." She wraps her arms around herself, trying to hold her pieces together. "And he's right. If I hadn't been so stupid, so desperate for attention from some guy who seemed normal?—"
"Stop." I grab her hands, feel them shaking. "Stop. This isn't your fault."
"Isn't it? I gave them information. I practically drew them a map to our lives. Every weak point, every vulnerability."
"You didn't know?—"
"I should have! I grew up in this life. I know to be careful. But he was cute and smart and interested in me, and I just... I wanted to be normal. To date a normal college guy. To talk about my life without watching every word." She pulls her hands free, wipes at her face uselessly. "Do you know what it's like? Being the 'normal' daughter? The one who isn't traumatized, who isn't special, who's just... there? Andrew made me feel seen. Interesting. And I was so pathetically grateful that I told him everything."
I pull her into a hug.
She collapses against me, crying so hard she can't breathe.
I can feel her ribs through the sweatshirt—she’s not eating well.
Guilt eating her from the inside.
"Where are you going?" I ask when she calms slightly.
"Texas. Austin. I have a friend from high school there, Katie, remember her? She said I can crash with her while I figure things out. Maybe get a job. Start over."
Texas.
Far enough to start over. Far enough to escape the weight of this. Far enough that she might be able to breathe again.
"You don't have to run," Oskar says. "The club will understand. Your father will calm down."
"No, he won't. You didn't see his face. The disgust. The rage. He looked at me like I was the enemy. Like I was worse than the enemy because I was supposed to be family." She pulls back, wipes her face with her sleeve. "Besides, I already told them I'm transferring. Continuing my education at UT Austin. They don't know I already dropped out, and you're not going to tell them."
"Helle—"
"Promise me, Elfe. Let them think I'm going to another school. It's better than them knowing I'm just running away. That I failed at school and failed at keeping my mouth shut and failed at being a good daughter."
"You're not a failure?—"
"I have a 0.8 GPA and I accidentally gave intel to a cartel. That's literally the definition of failure."
"You're not running away. You're starting over."
"Same thing." She stands, legs unsteady. "I should go. Long drive. I want to make it through Alabama before dark."
"You're leaving now? Today?"
"Tonight. After dinner with Mom. One last normal family meal where I pretend everything's fine. Where I lie about my transfer and my future and pretend I'm not dying inside." She laughs, bitter again. "I'm good at pretending. Pretended to be the perfect daughter. Pretended to be a good student. Pretended I wasn't giving information to enemies."
"Stop saying that."
"Why? It's true." She heads for her car, me following. "I left something for you. In your studio at Oskar's house. A painting I did. Before everything. When things were still good. When I still thought I might be artistic like you."
"You are an artist?—"
"No. I'm nothing. Just a stupid girl who talked too much to the wrong person."
"Helle, please. Stay. We can figure this out."
"No, we can't. Some things can't be fixed. Some betrayals can't be forgiven." She looks at me, and I see she's already gone. Already in Texas in her mind. "I'm glad you're happy. Glad you and Oskar worked things out. At least one of us gets a happy ending."
"This isn't an ending."
