She touched the necklace at her neck, absently pulling the locket from under her shirt. Her grandmother had given it to her on the day she died. Her grandfather—a man Dani never knew—had used it in lieu of a ring. The black-and-white picture inside was faded and tattered—her grandmother’s wedding day. She didn’t recall a time that her grandmother hadn’t worn the necklace. When she’d taken it off that morning and given it to her, Dani had been confused. She’d had no idea that she’d been sick, had no idea that she was dying. She let the locket slip from her fingers and she glanced over at Harper, who was watching her.

“This was hers,” she said, holding her hand over the locket for a second before tucking it back inside her shirt. “I was fifteen when she died. We were very close. I think if she’d been alive when…well, when I realized I was gay—which was that very next summer—I think I could have talked to her about it.” She touched the locket again. “She was my rock. My best friend, really. I often wonder how differently my life would have turned out if she had lived longer.”

“Meaning you may not have escaped to California?”

“Escaped. Funny word, isn’t it?” She leaned back. “I simply went from one prison to another.” She held her hand up. “And you don’t have to say it. A prison of my own making, I know.”

“What’s the real reason you’re in the closet?”

Dani frowned. “The real reason? You think there’s some underlying issues that I have?”

“I guess most people, especially when they’re young, have a fear of rejection. You said your family was very conservative. Is that the main reason? Fear that they would reject who you are?”

Dani pictured her parents—her father’s stern face, her mother’s disapproving stare. There were rarely any smiles. “Fear of disappointing them,” she finally said. “I wanted to be a cheerleader. I was pretty and popular and my friends were all the cool kids. So I wanted to be a cheerleader.”

“They didn’t want you to?”

“No. My parents were older. My mother was forty-three when I was born, my father almost fifty. They were extremely protective. I wasn’t allowed to date until I was sixteen.” She gave a quick smile. “Well, he said seventeen, but I eventually talked him down to sixteen. My mother, though, she thought that if I was a cheerleader, then I’d have to fight off the boys. She was terrified I was going to lose my virginity before my wedding night. Terrified that I would get pregnant.” She paused. “They…they hated the way I looked.”

“They hated that you were attractive?”

Dani nodded. “They didn’t quite know what to do with it.”

“So? You said you were a cheerleader, right?”