Reclaim - Aly Martinez Page 0,49

to relive that every time she saw me? She was my friend, and I cared about her on levels I couldn’t yet process. It would kill me to walk away, but that was my pain. Not hers.

I was only thirteen and already sure I would bear that cross for Nora Stewart every day if I had to. I couldn’t change my DNA or what Josh had done to her, but I could leave.

For her, I would do anything.

I fisted my hands at my sides to keep myself from stopping her as she opened the door. The overwhelming desire to pull her into a hug and tell her it was all going to be okay was almost more than I could take.

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since she’d trusted me enough to sleep at my side. I could still feel her in my arms, and now, I was letting her go for what I feared would be forever.

When the door closed behind her, I reached into my pocket and found our ten-dollar bill she’d tucked inside.

Yeah. That was it.

The arrow through the heart.

Nora was done. She didn’t need my address in Alberton anymore. She had no intention of ever coming back to me.

As I walked away that day, lost and heartbroken, I was clueless if I’d made the right decision by not pounding her door down. I prayed to every God in the universe that she was just mad and would eventually come around.

I waited at the creek for a week. Day and night. My heart in my throat. Staring at the road and waiting for her to appear.

She never did.

Not for two long years.

The best part about expecting the entire world to fail you is that, when it finally happens, you at least have the peace of mind from knowing you were right.

Life didn’t stop because Camden Cole was gone.

Nor did it stop because Josh Caskey was free without a care in the world.

My bruises eventually faded—at least the ones on the outside.

Inside, I was shattered, rotting, and severed from my only lifeline: Camden.

I woke up every morning and performed the herculean task of putting one foot in front of the other, and every afternoon, I’d collapse into bed, exhausted, and with aching cheeks from faking happiness I never truly felt.

Everything was a show, from the smiles and laughs to being social and hanging out with Ramsey and Thea. I was stuck in the darkness as the world spun beneath my feet, desperately wishing for a way out, all the while knowing I’d never find one. I never went back to the creek, but sometimes, I’d lie in bed late at night, the window open, crickets chirping and fireflies flashing, and pretend.

Camden was always there in those daydreams. His arms around me. Holding me like he had our last night together in my bedroom. A torturous flashback of the first and only time I’d felt truly safe.

I blew out candles on my thirteenth birthday and opened the few Christmas presents Ramsey and I exchanged every year. Thea and I became closer. She asked the most questions when things seemed off, but as long as she wasn’t suspicious, neither was my brother.

Time passed, but the nearly constant ache inside me never did.

I ran into Josh around town. Most of the time, he ignored me, but on occasion, he’d try to talk to me. Even if it was only to lean in close and whisper how many times he’d watched the video of us together—essentially prying my ribs open and ripping my heart out all over again.

I wanted to disappear, and to be honest, I thought about it more times than I would ever admit. At night, when I wasn’t pretending to be with Camden at the creek again, I’d imagine the blissful hollowness of death. The quiet. The absence of feelings. The constant stress vibrating in my veins finally stilling and my mind falling into nothingness.

I always woke up the next morning.

Same hollow chest.

Same fake smile.

Same despair.

My fourteenth birthday came and went, as did my first day of high school. Passing Josh in the hallway was something I had to get used to. By that point, I was so numb that I didn’t have much left for him to hurt anymore. He still tried though and slipped a picture of us kissing with his hand on my breast into my locker. I spent the rest of the afternoon, throwing up and contemplating how long Ramsey would blame himself if I