MY MOM MADE ME GO ON LONG WALKS THROUGH THE NEIGHBORHOOD, to clear my head after so long in the house, and I would wave to Mr. Avery and he would wave back. And every time we made it back to our front door, my mom would hug me and say, “You’re going to be okay, sweetie.”

I never heard a word from Zeke. I knew there were so many reasons that he wouldn’t contact me. He was terrified of the poster and what might happen if anyone found out. But I knew, more than that, he was ashamed that he’d hurt me, had done something awful. If he didn’t check on me or apologize for what he’d done, he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

In my head, I kept thinking about how he had pushed me away when I’d needed him, had pushed me down the freaking stairs, and maybe it was my own blindness, but I didn’t believe it was on purpose. I know that I was making excuses for him, trying to ignore all the ways that his rage had pushed his life into bad places. I was protecting him because I guess I thought he needed it. And if I protected the person who hurt me, who had broken me, then I was stronger than he was and I was stronger than anyone who might try to hurt us more. And maybe that would bring him back.

I’d made the decision that I would forgive him, and I wouldn’t apologize for that. And I’m not apologizing now. But after he left, I just wanted him to talk to me, to reach out, and I really believed it would go back to the way it was. But I couldn’t be the one to call for him. It had to be him, I thought. And he wasn’t going to do it.

It killed me. And even though I was getting better, I felt like I was dying. Coalfield felt empty. It felt lonelier than it had before the summer began, and it made me hate him a little because of it.