Page 101 of Pretty Little Scars

“Harper?” Darby asks.

“Especially Harper,” I confirm. “She’s my sister in every way that counts, but she didn’t live with us permanently until she was about twelve. I was out of the house by then, of course, but she and Ava were thick as thieves. Her parents had died, and she didn’t have anywhere to go. So, my dad became a foster parent so he could keep her with us.”

Darby’s biting her lower lip, watching me raptly. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. He never treated her any different from the rest of us. She’s his daughter. Sometimes I think she’s his favorite.”

Darby laughs at that, and it helps lighten the conversation. “I doubt that.”

“Okay, it’s a tie between the girls. But they’re good girls, so who can blame him, right? It was the same with Zack. He spent so much time at our house when we were young, and my dad was that solid male figure he needed when his biological dad was a complete waste of space. To this day, Zack calls Dad on Father’s Day and comes to our place for Christmas, when he can swing it.”

“You’re his family,” she says.

“Yeah, we are.”

Darby blinks, and her brows pull together in a frown. “It’s so different from how I grew up.”

“Tell me about that. Whatever you want to share.”

Before she can talk about it, our meals are placed in front of us. We both got steaks, and they smell great.

“Can I get you anything else?” the server asks.

“This looksamazing,” Darby says, shaking her head.

“We’re good,” I confirm, and then we’re alone once more. “You don’t have to talk about this while we eat.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” she says, cutting into her steak. “You already know the worst of it, so I won’t go into that here. Before Mom died, things were already scary. I think my dadthrivedon all of us living in fear. And pain. I often wonder if he was a serial killer.”

My eyes widen, and I watch as Darby taps her fork to her lips thoughtfully. She’s not kidding.

“I mean, he had that kind of evil in him.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Anyway, our safe haven was the Blackwell family. Whenever things got too horrible, Holden would round us all up and take us over to the Blackwells’, and we’d hang out there until things calmed down a bit. They’re like siblings to me. So, I guess the way your home was a sanctuary for Harper and Zack, we found that with the Blackwells.”

“I’m so fucking glad that you had itsomewhere.”

Her smile is sad, and it makes me want to yank her to me and never let go.

“I didn’t have many friends, though. I didn’t honestly havetimefor friends or for extra things after school. I always wished I did, that I could join a club or sports, because it would mean that I could be away from home longer.”

Christ.

“But I couldn’t risk it. I had to be home to protect my younger sisters. Holden did a great job of scaring Dad just enough to make sure he didn’t kill us.”

My jaw is clenched so tight, it’s a wonder it doesn’t break.

“But he had to work the ranch. From the time he was roughly ten or eleven, right around the time Mom died, he worked the ranch harder than Dad did. Dad used Holden as slave labor, and he spent his time making our lives hell, so I had to race home from school to look after the others. Charlie was just a baby then, and there were times I’d get home and she was crying, hungry, wet, and neglected all day. The twins were so quiet, so scared.”

She’s talking about this like you would discuss going on family vacation as a kid. Like it’s just a fact, and I know that for her it is, but it’s breaking my fucking heart. How can she be so robotic about it? So ...detached?

“But the best days were when he would pass out drunk, and we could just breathe. The little ones could play, and I could read or study without being yelled at for something. Those days didn’t happen enough.”

“Darby—”

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me,” she murmurs as she finishes her steak. “We all survived it. I think we’re stronger because of it.”

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“I think I’m mostly stubborn.”