“Not you. You didn’t let the monsters in. And you didn’t retreat into yourself either. You focused on Mady. You turned your mind to her, down there in the dark, didn’t you? You focused on your love for her. You get to own that.”
“Did I?” she murmured. “Not when it mattered. Not that night.” She brought her head forward, eyes locking on Reed’s soulful, pain-filled gaze. “The fire . . . I went inside for her but . . .” A shiver made her body convulse. “I didn’t even get badly burned. The flames were too hot. I turned back, Reed. I don’t even have scars.”
“Yes, you do. You do have scars.”
“This one?” she asked, bringing her hand to her throat. He started to shake his head but she went on. “This one doesn’t count. I can’t take credit. No”—she gave her own head a shake—“if I’d been brave, if I’d been good, I would have walked into the fire, no matter how hot. I left her there.”
“You don’t believe that, Liza. That’s your guilt talking. Your sister was most likely already dead of smoke inhalation,” he said very carefully. Very gently. “You would have died too. If you’d have gone any farther into the fire, you’d be dead now.”
“Good!” she choked.
Reed took a step forward, his expression so incredibly pained. “No. That’s not true.” He let out a deep breath, his chest rising and falling.
“It is true. And now you get it.”
“Get what exactly?”
“Why I can’t manage a relationship with anyone, not even something casual. You’re a good man. You deserve someone without so much baggage.” She attempted a small smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Think of all those sacrifices your birth mother made so you could live a normal life. A good life. I’m the last type of woman she’d have in mind for you. Don’t you see that?”
“No.”
“Oh, Reed, you’re—”
“You’ve had your say, Liza. Your story is heartbreaking. Enraging. And I am sorry to the depths of my soul that that happened to you. But let me speak now.”
She felt a moment of confusion. It was not the reaction she’d expected. She’d expected him to be out the door by now. He should be out the door, and here he was, standing in front of her, his gaze latched on to hers, unblinking. “You think that story you just told is your weakness and your shame, but maybe it’s your greatest strength. My birth mother, Josie, figured out how to take control of her story, and she’d be cheering you on to do that too.” He reached out and took her fingers in his. His grip was warm, strong. Safe. “I’m cheering you on,” he finished quietly.
“Oh, Reed,” she said, a wash of tenderness making her feel even weaker. He was a natural savior. But she didn’t want this. Had no clue how to navigate this unchartered territory. “You’d have saved me if you could have, back then. I know that. You’d have saved your mother if you could have too. But it doesn’t work that way. We’re dealing with now.”
He tilted his head as if conceding her words. “No, it doesn’t work that way. And you’re right. I would have saved you if I could have. I would have flung that cellar door open and dragged you out of the dark. I would have done something for my mother if given the chance too. But I didn’t need to. Josie saved herself. And I see you trying to do the same. That’s what I see.”
Liza felt tears burn the backs of her eyes. Reed went on. “Don’t deny your past, Liza. It’s not your shame to carry. Grieve it, and then use it to strengthen others. You made it. You’re here, and I have no idea how, but you are. That’s the story I really want to hear. Maybe someday you’ll tell it to me, because I’d like to believe monsters don’t get the final say.”
Oh God. Pain welled in her chest, flowing through her blood, her bones, down to her very marrow. She hurt. Everywhere. Fifteen years, three unimpressive foster homes later, a college diploma, a psychology degree, she still hurt. Still feared. Still suffered. God, she wished she could rise above it. Be free. But she wasn’t, and sometimes she wondered if she ever truly would be.
“I can’t,” she said brokenly. “I’m sorry. You’ll never know how much.” She shook her head, closing her eyes against the empathy she saw in