she would cling to that memory. With Maggie, she could do it.
And Liam was the icing on the cake of courage.
“Let’s go,” Maggie said, then turned back and led the way to where Liam now stood at a table, chatting with a man.
He looked their way and waved them over.
“These are my friends Maggie and Quinn,” he said to the man as they approached.
Quinn forgot to look where she was walking and tripped over a huge tree root. Before she could recover, she catapulted forward, dropping the box and scattering everything in it in a wide radius around her.
“Oh no!” Maggie exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
A few guys rushed over. One gathered up the ziplock bags while the other held out a hand to help her to her feet. Quinn had lost her sunglasses, and she took the hand and looked straight up into the man’s face.
He wore a baseball cap, and when she saw his face, a sense of familiarity washed over her. She’d seen him before.
She flashed back to the Sea House and remembered that he was the one she almost bulldozed over when she came out of the bathroom. The hat guy.
When she had her feet under her, she let go of him, and Maggie handed her the sunglasses. Quinn put them on quickly, but she was shaking when they finally approached the table. The other rescuer set her box on the table, so Quinn stood there, not knowing what to do. Maggie put her box down too.
“This is Noah,” Liam said.
Noah held a hand out to Quinn, and though she was supposed to be the one holding back, somehow she was there and felt like she had to take it.
He was tall and looked quite athletic for his age. His hair was mostly gray, but she could tell it was once blond. He had thoughtful eyes, and he covered her hand with both of his, grasping it as he smiled at her. Quinn had thought she might feel something electric go through them when they touched, but all she felt was warmth.
“Thank you so much for your donations,” he said. “The crew here on this beach can really use it. Many of them lost their belongings when they were run off from Baldwin Beach.”
“You’re welcome. I’ve been here a few weeks, and I felt like I should do something for the community.”
“I see you’ve met my son, Jonah,” he said, beckoning to the hat guy, who looked like he was more likely to be from the group of tent people than from Noah’s family.
Quinn’s breath caught in her throat. So Jonah was the connection who was supposed to meet with her. She’d practically run him over, and then he’d cowardly declined to show himself for who he was.
The same thing she was doing right now, she realized.
“I—yes, I suppose,” she answered, pulling her hand free.
Jonah nodded, his face impassive.
Quinn thought of her mother. The one who had raised her and tried to teach her to be brave and always take pride in her actions. The one who used love and kindness laced with long talks to keep her from following other teens into drugs or alcohol. The one who had the courage to finally admit she’d lied, just before she took her last breath.
To Quinn, that meant something huge. That meant her mother had wanted her to be here, in this moment, seeking the truth. Even if it meant the truth would end up making Quinn hate her.
Then she pictured Ethan’s face. He’d always treated her like she was too afraid to do things for herself. And she’d let him. After a while it had just gotten easier to slip right into the person that he wanted, his early hints and persuasions guiding her into his ideal partner. She honestly didn’t even know what sort of person she would have been if left to her own choices. She’d allowed Ethan to take over her life and then walk all over her.
Was she really that person?
If she was, then she despised herself.
“And this is Maggie,” Liam said, introducing her to Noah.
Quinn had a decision to make. They were all three here. She could take charge of her own life right here and now. Or shrink back and be the woman that Ethan had always expected her to be.
She locked eyes with Liam and felt like he knew she was struggling. He nodded, encouraging her to do whatever it was that made her the most comfortable.
But comfortable was overrated.
“Um