I think I’ve found a solution. It’s three stories up and no one is watching the fire escape.
—Page 54 of Tessa Waye’s diary
Go? I can’t go. Running won’t change anything. It might even make it worse. Our dad’s returned, Tessa’s attacker is closer than ever, and Carson isn’t doing anything with the diary. Now is not the time for me to take off.
“I can’t go, Bren. I have school.”
“Well, yes.” Bren won’t look at me, but her words march forward in a perfectly rehearsed line. “But they’ll understand, Wick. I’ll write you a note. You can make up the work later.”
Holy shit, she’s really serious.
“I can’t make the work up later,” I lie. “I have a project that’s due for my computer class. I’m on a team. They’re counting on me to be there.”
The corners of Bren’s mouth pull down. “That class is so demanding, Wick. I think we should look around for something else. Maybe you should diversify a bit. Take an art class, or maybe try out for one of the teams. You would be a fantastic cheerleader. You’re so small you could be a flyer!”
“I don’t like the cheerleaders.” And they really don’t like me.
“You like Lauren.” Bren reaches for me, straightens the hem of my shirt. “And, maybe, if you would just—”
“Don’t!” I explode, way, way angrier than I expected. “Just don’t, Bren. I’m not some pet project. People can’t be fixed.”
She blinks. “Are you broken?”
Of course. “Of course not.”
“Of course not,” Bren echoes softly. “That’s good. I’m glad, though I don’t think anyone can get to adulthood without a few cracks.” She gives me a small, shy, totally un-Bren-like smile. Suddenly, she isn’t the woman who runs a million-dollar corporation. She’s someone I don’t recognize. “It makes sense that you’re the unbroken one, Wick. I think you might be the strongest person I know. Nothing scares you.”
You have no idea, lady. I’ve been very, very careful to keep it that way. It was supposed to be a good thing. It is a good thing. Except that now . . . now I want to explain. But there are too many lies between us.
I stare at Bren and feel ten thousand miles away. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“I can see that.” The oven buzzer goes off, beeping like a perky fire alarm, but Bren barely seems to notice. “I want us to be friends, Wick. I want . . . I want us to be more than friends. I spoke to your social worker about drawing up adoption papers.”
And just like that, I feel like I’ve been dropped from three stories up.
“You spoke to her about what?”
“Adoption papers. I want to adopt both of you. I want you. We want you.”
Not if you really knew who I am and what I’ve done.
“I always wanted kids,” Bren continues shakily. “But I couldn’t . . . have them. For years, I just couldn’t understand why I was so unlucky, but now I get it. I was supposed to wait for you. It was you all along, you and Lily.”
Bren’s eyes are shining. “I know Todd wanted to be here when I told you, but he’s still helping Principal Matthews, and I wanted you to know, and now that dreadful picture went up and we have to go.”
Go. I force myself to breathe. We’re back to that again.
And maybe that’s where we need to stay. If they’re in San Francisco, they would be safer than if they were here. I need Bren to take Lily.
“I know you still have a dad, Wick, but Todd would love to be your father too.”
My dad. Another reason they need to go and I need to stay. Because there’s nowhere I can run that our dad will not follow. Getting close to Bren only gives him someone else to hurt.
“So what do you think?” Bren asks softly. “What do you say?”
“About the adoption? Or about the trip?” Stupid questions, but they buy me time, give me a few more seconds to savor what it feels like to be wanted.
Bren nods. “Both. Either. No, both. I want your answer on both.”
Any way you look at it, it all comes down to the same answer: no. No, I can’t leave. No, I can’t involve them. No, this won’t work. No. No. No.
But if I say yes, I’ll have what I want. I’ll get away. I’ll have Bren and Lily.
I’ll . . . I’ll be a coward.
“I’ll think about it, Bren.”