Page 141 of Hidden

I flinched.

Because that was the truth of it. And I didn’t want to hear it.

Her eyes softened slightly as she watched me. “Right! We’re getting you out,” she said suddenly.

My head snapped up. “What?”

“You’re leaving.”

“I just told you—”

“And I told you,” she cut in, her voice firmer now, stronger than I’d heard it in a long time, “that you’re not staying here for me.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

“You’re not leaving me,” she said. “I’m making the choice to stay. And you… you’re getting out. There’s a difference.”

“There isn’t.”

“There is,” she insisted. “Because once you’re out, you have a chance to do something. To come back. To fix this. To… to actually live your life instead of just surviving it.”

I shook my head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I do,” she said quietly. “I’m asking you to stop sacrificing yourself for me.”

My eyes burned.

“I’m asking you,” she continued, her voice softening again, “to give yourself the chance you should have had years ago.”

Years ago.

My mind flickered.

To a different room.

A different bed.

A different version of me.

One that had been happy. One that had been given the prospect of a new life, where anything was possible, and the future was just beginning.

I shut the thought down before it could go any further. Some wounds were too painful to reopen and examine.

Then, after a long moment, she reached across and took my hand.

“You’ve been through enough,” she said quietly. “More than enough.”

My throat tightened painfully.

“And I’m so sorry,” she added, her voice breaking just slightly. “For all of it. For not protecting you better. For notseeing it sooner. For…” she hesitated. “For everything you lost along the way.”

My fingers tightened around hers.

“We’ll figure this out,” she said after a moment. “Together.”

I nodded.

Because it was easier than arguing.