Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“How much time?” Before I can answer, she adds, “I don’t know if there are enough years left in my life for that to be true.”
“Don’t say that.” Who am I? I hardly recognize this version of me. I’m nobody’s guru and certainly not a positive thinker. Yet there’s nothing I want more at this moment than to provide a measure of comfort. She’s too young to feel this way—hopeless and defeated.
Maybe my decision will spark a little hope for the future. I want it to. It might be the only thing that can save her now. “I’ve decided something. I’m not going to force you to return to Corium.”
There’s a light in her eyes for the first time since she woke up. “No? Not ever?”
“Not ever. I’m going to set you up someplace new. You’ll have an entirely new life. You can decide for yourself what you want to do and who you want to be. You’ll finally have freedom.”
To my surprise and disappointment, the light fades away, leaving me with the same haunted girl who woke up beside me.
“I don’t understand. You’re getting rid of me?”
I should have known she would take it this way. She’s only known rejection all her life after being passed from one bad-faith actor to another. Now it looks like I’m passing her off, too. “No, not getting rid of you. Setting you free. Isn’t that what you wanted all along? To be free? You have it. You’ll want for nothing. You’ll never have to rely on anyone else again.”
“Except for you.”
“Of course, I misspoke. What I meant was I’ll be hands-off—”
“I think I understood what you meant.” Obviously not, or else there wouldn’t be so much resentment in her voice. I’m doing this wrong, fumbling left and right. One skill I was never able to master was how to navigate touchy situations like this one.
“I thought this would make you happy.”
“So did I.” She sits up and swings her legs over the side of the bed like she’s suddenly in a hurry to get away from me. “For my whole life, I've never been given a choice. I could never make my own decisions. Rather it was my father, my aunt, Nash, or you. Someone always took my choice away. First, I was trapped in a trailer, then I was bound to Nash. After that, Quinton kidnapped me, then I came to Corium, and even when I left there, I got myself captured again.”
“Maybe it’s time to break the cycle.”
She shrugs. “I always hated being trapped and always yearned for freedom, but now that I am faced with the possibility of that all, all I feel is fear. I thought I would be relieved and happy to be on my own, but the truth is, I have no idea how to take care of myself. I don't even have a fucking driver's license. I don't have an education or any special skills. What the hell am I going to do?”
“You’ll be fine. This is a good thing. You’ll be safe and protected. I promise.”
“So you say.” The disappointment in her voice cuts me to my core. What does she want from me? She doesn’t want to go back to Corium. Have I not offered enough? I can’t help but have a slight twinge of resentment at the idea. How much more can I give her?
As it turns out, she has an idea. “I need you to do something for me.”
“And what would that be?” I ask, guarded.
“I need you to take me back to the trailer where I used to live with my aunt.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“I still have things there I would like to take with me wherever I go. Can’t I at least do that?” She pauses. “Remember, I didn’t exactly expect to never go back, and I could only take as much as I could carry in a single bag. I still have clothes there, books, stuff like that.”
“I can get you more clothes and books. You can leave all of that behind.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” The ferocity of her response takes me by surprise. Who would want to return to a place as bleak and depressing as she described? That’s her past; what is the point of returning to somewhere you never belonged?
“Don’t you want to start fresh? Why would you want to be reminded of a place where you felt isolated and ignored?”
She snorts as she stands. “Call it closure, I guess. Whatever you call it, I don’t care. I want to go. I need to.” Our eyes meet, and she holds my gaze. “Please.”
How am I supposed to refuse that? The pleading in her gaze and her words. I can tell she needs this, even if I don’t want her to return to that place.