Maybe I’m wrong. But I want to believe we are more than the worst things we’ve ever done. If we are, I may have a shot at a real life. Not normal, just real. I also may have a shot at becoming a better person. Not good, just better. Someone, for example, who uses her money to benefit others.

As for Billy, it’s hard to say. Last week he spoke to Princeton about returning. If he takes classes this summer and doubles up in the fall, he’ll graduate with his class. Med school is once again a possibility. Turns out some guys can in fact move forward after being accused of assault.

Now, wearing sweatpants and expensive sneakers, my brother looks like himself again. His phone rings constantly; girls are swarming more than ever. His hair is still long, though he keeps threatening to buzz it off, change his name, move west and start over. Doesn’t matter. Billy will be fine. Better than fine. If only he wasn’t so handsome, if only he wasn’t so rich. If only.

I hear Eleanor calling for him. “Coming!” he shouts. “I’ll see you guys soon,” he says before heading out. “Maybe I’ll drive up to New Haven for a weekend.”

“Maybe,” I say, noncommittally.

Nate still hasn’t uttered a word.

Billy pulls us both into a hug. “Take care, Cassidy Cakes. Call me.” But he won’t meet our eyes, and as I watch him go, I feel a sharp pain in my chest.

This morning, I opened Lawrence’s present. It’s a knickknack, a hand-carved duck. Around its neck it has a tag with a label written in Sharpie: I am a drake. I should’ve thrown it out. For the moment, it’s packed in a box and moving to New Haven. I need to know it’s there, just in case.

There are places inside me that will always be broken. I’ll always feel unlovable and worthless, dirty and damaged. Maybe, too, I’ll never be able to sustain an intimate relationship. I’ll sabotage myself or run away or pretend it doesn’t matter.

“You ready?” Nate asks. “Cass?”

And yet I have to move forward. Every day I have to make that choice, to live.

I turn to my brother and say his name. “Nate.” My throat starts to close.

He’s watching me. “Cassandra?” Nate asks. “What’s up?”

A ringing in my ears distracts me. My skin is twitching. I feel rising pressure in my head. “I’m terrified,” I blurt out. Such a small thing to admit out loud. But here, with my brother, it is everything.

An hour later, Nate and I slip into his car and pull out of the driveway. Neither of us look back. We’re headed to our new life. But first we’re stopping at Hawkins Cove to walk on the beach, for old times’ sake.