He lifts the shotgun. “I could shoot you.”

“Go ahead. Knowing my luck, I’ll just come back to life the way you did.”

“Oh, yeah? What makes you so brave all of a sudden?”

“It’s not all of a sudden. But right now, it’s just you and me. There’s no one else for you to hurt in my place and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

“Oh, come on,” he says. “You must have some big rescue in mind. Some trick to play.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why the hell would you come back? You didn’t really think I was dead, did you?”

I have to lean against the wall. That helps some, but it doesn’t stop the trembling in my bad leg.

“I had hopes,” I tell him.

I think back on that moment when I hit him. When I changed back into who I wanted to be. Was it just being as angry as I was? God knows, that shouldn’t make a difference because I was angry before.

What did Honey say?

Something about focusing. About believing.

That was what was different, I realize. For that one moment before I hit him, I wasn’t uncertain anymore. I was completely focused on hitting him. I believed I could hurt him, and he couldn’t stop that. He didn’t get back control until after, when the uncertainty hit me again.

“Well, you hoped wrong,” he says. “Get this straight, little sister. No matter what happens, I’m never going away. You’re always going to have this piece of me inside you. So you might as well get down on your hands and knees and pray to me, because in this place, I’m God.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Goddamned right, I’m right. So let’s see a little respect from you. We can start with a little begging.”

“No,” I say. “I meant you’re right about me always being stuck with a part of you inside me. Memories don’t go away. We can lock them up and shut them away so that we think they’re gone forever, but even when we can’t see them, they’re always there.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“You. Me. This curse you’ve put on me because, even though I got away from you, I’m always going to be carrying a piece of you around with me.”

“Damn straight,” he says.

I can tell he’s just mouthing the words. That he doesn’t really understand what I’m talking about. I’m only just getting it myself.

Bleeding hearts would think I need to forgive him.

Honey thinks I need to forgive myself for ever thinking I was to blame, that I deserved what happened to me.

But that’s not what it’s about.

It’s about acceptance.