Contents (85)
- Contents
- Part I
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Part II
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Part III
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- One
- Two
- Reading Group Guide
- A Conversation with the Author
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
I pull back and look at him. He sees my tears now. “Because we’re not happy here. That’s all that matters.”
He thinks about this, then a cloud passes over his face. “Are you still in trouble? Like about the stuff Willow said. The stuff with…Daddy?”
I shake my head. “There might be a few more questions I have to answer, but that’s it.”
The cloud becomes a thunderstorm. “What if they don’t believe you? What if they take you away?” He looks at the ground, his default position.
“Max, look at me.” He doesn’t. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s you and me from here on out. We have to take care of each other, and the best way I can take care of you is for you to listen to me. Really listen to me, Max, and do what I say, okay?”
He mumbles.
“Max, look at me.”
It takes a moment, but he does.
“This is really important. Just because we’re going back doesn’t mean life will suddenly be easy. There’ll be some tough times ahead, and that’s why I need you to always listen to me. More than ever, okay?”
“Okay,” he says.
“Good. Now, I need you to have a sleepover tonight with Micah with no complaining. Got it?”
His face scrunches in the way it always does before an argument, but then he relaxes it again. “Got it.”
I want to bottle this moment up in a leakproof container, because there’s magic here. There’s hope, which I’ve all but abandoned since a detective from Milwaukee sat down in my father’s living room and asked me if I loved my husband.
But I can’t bottle this. Can’t cage it. Can’t contain it in any fashion. Because hope, like everything that lives in the wild, dies if it’s not given the space to thrive.
Fifty
2:47 p.m.
I’m the only one on the road, driving inside a snow globe. The second round of flurries promised by the late afternoon has arrived early, coming down in large, puffy flakes that pile on top of those already fallen. Alec’s house is only a mile away but the going is slow.
Everything looks gentle in Bury. A few houses already have Christmas decorations up, the owners not even bothering to wait for Thanksgiving to pass. Bury has always been a festive town. I’ve always struggled to appreciate Bury’s superficial beauty because I know the ugliness beneath.
We pull into Alec’s driveway, freshly plowed but already collecting a new layer of snow. It’s coming down harder now, and as much as I want to stay with Alec for a little while, I don’t think the storm has my schedule preferences in mind.
I ring the bell, Max a foot behind me. He was quiet on the way over, but he wasn’t complaining, so I’m counting that as a success.
Alec opens the door, wrapped in a cashmere sweater and a smile, and at the sight of him, I think he’s the only thing genuinely beautiful in this town. I want to disappear into his chest and shut the rest of the world away.