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I wonder how many times she’s told herself this. Maybe he won’t do it again. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system. She’ll keep telling herself that until he’s in his grave, simply to rationalize clinging to the safety he offers.

“He won’t,” I tell her. “How many second chances are you willing to give him? Look, come with me. We’ll all stay with Karla until we’re on our feet. You and I will get jobs…I don’t mind putting off college for a few years. We’ll figure something out until Hope and Faith get through high school and⁠—”

“What kind of job do you think I’d get?” she demands, wiping away her tears. “I’ve never worked. I don’t have a degree. I’ve got no idea how things are even done. You know how the people who leave turn out.”

“But we’ve got resources. We’ll figure it out together, Mom. Please⁠—”

“No,” she says. “If you want to ruin your sisters’ lives, you can do it on your own.”

There’s something triumphant in her eyes, as if she’s won. As if I’ll stay quiet to protect them.

“It sounds as if you’re choosing to ruin their lives for them, Mom.” I rise to my feet, wiping away my tears. “So, I really hope you choose not to.”

I open the door and my sisters and Kappy return.

I can tell by the bustle outside that we’re nearly ready to start. I walk to the full-length mirror. Kappy has wrought a miracle: the circles and my pallor have vanished. I’m as lovely as my mother, perhaps more so. Even this dress I never cared about fits as if it was made for me, fitted over the bodice and waist, flaring out just below my hips. If only I wasn’t still crying. If only there wasn’t a visible tremble in my hands.

In spite of my brave words just now, it’s hard to imagine I’ll go through with outing my parents publicly. I have to, but it’s going to destroy me, watching Faith’s face as she listens. I hope, either way, they come with me when it’s done. Kappy’s dad is a lawyer. So is Alex’s. Maybe they’ll defend my mom so she can keep Faith.

“You don’t have to do this,” whispers my mom.

“Pre-wedding jitters,” soothes the pastor’s wife while my mother fusses with my veil. “It happens to us all.”

This, actually, happens to very few people.

One of the pastor’s sons tells us it’s time. Kappy hugs me tight, followed by my sisters. They don’t know this may be the last time, but I do. My throat aches as they exit the room.

“You can still change your mind,” my mother says. One last out.

I want to curl up against her and beg her to fix this, to undo this. I shut my eyes until the impulse passes. “I’m not changing my mind.”

They’re all escorted into the church, while I go to where my father stands. He taught me how to read. He taught me how to ride a bike. I can remember him placing a bandage on my knee after I fell off the slide, laughing gently when I insisted I’d never have kids after Hope’s diaper exploded.

How can he be a monster at the same time? I don’t know.

He nods as I approach, then squeezes my arm. “We’ve had our differences, Grace, and this past year has been difficult for us both. I hope this can be a new start.”

“It will be,” I reply. If I can stand to do it.

I may be about to destroy my sisters’ happiness. Perhaps I’ve been too hasty. Maybe I should wait and come up with another way to deal with my dad.

The doors open.

The crowd murmurs in approval, smiling as we start down the aisle—me with the dread of someone heading to her execution. It’s so many more people than I expected, but then again: it’s two very powerful families uniting. Of course they’re all here.

We reach the altar and my father releases me to Tommy, whose face, up close, is a sickly shade—half green and half white.

He doesn’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry him. He thought he did a month ago, but he’s smart enough to know a really bad deal when he sees one. Marrying a girl who can’t stop quietly mocking you is a pretty bad deal.

But then…my sisters. Grinning ear-to-ear from the front row, starry-eyed and assuming this moment is magical for us all.

I can’t do it. I can’t. I can find a way out of this later. I just need time. I can’t destroy those smiles on my sisters’ faces. Not now. I can’t announce to an entire church that Faith is the product of rape, that she was stolen from her birth mother.

“We are gathered today,” the pastor begins, “for one of the most sacred events this church holds, the joining of man and woman. Thomas and Grace, you are surrounded by those who love you, yes, but also your extended family—the church.”

My heart is hammering so loudly I can barely hear the pastor’s words as he turns us toward the congregation.

Where Ford sits, beside Kappy. Ford, in his school oxford and jacket, his tie askew, as always. Ford, looking at me as if I’m the only thing he will ever need to see. He’s even lovelier than I remembered. I see him and something pulses inside me, a reminder of home. Not the home I grew up in, but the one place I ever felt safe and adored. The one place that ever made sense.