My vision went blurry, and the voices in the room turned fuzzy. I couldn’t hear Crosby’s objections or the rest of my mother’s testimony. I could only stare at my knees. The stockings I’d painstakingly put on today, so incredibly careful not to get a single snag or tear. I’d thought if I had my armor in place, nothing could hurt me. How wrong I’d been.

I went through the motions when I was called to the stand and repeated after the sworn statement. I answered Crosby’s questions and then the ones from Hotchkiss. I wasn’t sure how. I forgot what they asked the moment after I answered. The only inquiries that stuck with me were the ones Crosby asked about my childhood. He asked them with a silent apology in his eyes, knowing that I didn’t want the world to see what I’d worked so hard to hide. But it didn’t matter. Everything would be exposed now. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

When court adjourned, Crosby and Bell hurried me out of the room and the building, guiding me down the steps and into Crosby’s truck. When we were all firmly situated inside, Bell let out a sigh. “Well, that was seriously messed up.”

Crosby gripped the steering wheel, even though the vehicle wasn’t in motion. “They’re upping the game. Playing dirtier. I just wish I knew what their next move was.”

“I told you this was going to happen.” My voice sounded dead, even to my own ears.

Bell leaned forward between the seats. “You’re not going to stop fighting, are you?”

A part of me wanted to. I wanted to run fast and hard. I made enough at my job to rent a decent place in town, maybe even buy something. It would be mine and mine alone. There would be no threats or memories hanging over my head. But I couldn’t do that to Harriet. She wanted The Gables to be a home full of messy life, the ups and downs of it, but with joy through it all. I was going to find a way to make that happen for her. But not just for Harriet. For myself, too. Because I deserved a life full of that messy joy. I wasn’t sure what it would look like just yet, but I’d figure it out along the way.

“She’s smiling,” Bell whispered.

Crosby chuckled. “I think that means she’s planning.” He tucked a strand of hair that had fallen free of my bun behind my ear. “You okay, Brown Eyes?”

“No. I’m not okay. But I will be.”

35

Crosby