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I didn’t want to leave, so Sawyer drove my sister home.
And flipped his Jeep.
They amputated my sister’s right foot four days later.
That night started Haley’s drug addiction. We just didn’t know it at the time.
When they stopped refilling her pain meds, she stole Mom’s prescription pad.
That’s when she got caught.
That was the first time she ended up in rehab.
Hayley’s brows pull together. “Oh, Wren. I don’t need to forgive Sawyer.”
“Why, Hales? Was that part of your recovery? Forgiving everyone who’s wronged you?” I push through the tears. So protective of my sister and desperately wishing she was sitting in front of me instead of on a separate continent. That way, when I tell her what I’ve been doing, at least she could be disgusted with me in person. There’d be no hiding.
Self-loathing wraps itself around me in a tight grip.
“It wasn’t his fault, Wren.” A single tear slides down her cheek before she carefully wipes it away. “I told Mom and Dad we should have talked to you about this.”
“How could it possibly not be his fault? He lost control of the Jeep.” I shake my head, confused and emotionally exhausted. “I know he didn’t mean for it to happen, but I hate him for what he did to you.”
“Sawyer didn’t do it,” she says in a quiet confession, and at first, I think I heard her wrong. “He wasn’t driving.”
“What?” I ask through a full-blown sob.
“I asked him if I could drive the Jeep home.” She rubs a hand over her face, hiding her eyes. “Dad had offered to get me a new car to reward me for being accepted to the University of Penn. He was so proud that I was going to his alma mater. I was thinking about getting a Jeep, so I asked Sawyer to let me drive home.”
“Haley?”No.
“He didn’t know I was high, Wren. You can’t be mad at him. Sawyer didn’t know,” she pleads. “I told him I hadn’t been drinking. Then when it happened, I freaked out and begged him to switch places with me. I’d stolen Mom’s prescription pad to get the Oxys. I didn’t want her to get in trouble.”
“Why... Why would he switch places with you?” I don’t understand. None of this makes sense.
“I lied, Wrenny. I lied and told him I’d had a few beers and begged him to switch places with me. I didn’t even feel the bone sticking out of my leg at that point. Hell, I couldn’t feel anything. But none of that was Sawyer’s fault. He was trying to protect me.” She wipes away another errant tear, battling to keep her composure.
My pulse throbs behind my eyes as the room spins around me with a new reality I’m not ready to accept. “I thought your addiction started because of the accident,” I whisper, trying to wrap my head around the betrayal. “I’ve blamed him for that for years.”
“No, Wren. I spent my senior year getting high with that asshole, Mark. He got hurt playing football that year. The first time I ever tried anything, it was his prescription.” The shadows dance across her face, hiding her eyes but not her tears.
“You lost your foot, Hales. I blamed Sawyer for that. I blamed him for everything. We grew up with them, and you let him take the blame.” My anger is no longer pointed at Sawyer.
I’ve never yelled at my sister.
Not once in all the years since the accident.
Not when she stole money. Not when she made Mom and Dad cry.
Not when she broke my heart.
But I’m yelling now. “How could you do that?”
“Mom and Dad know the truth, Wren. So did Mr. and Mrs. Kingston. I don’t know why they never told you, but I thought you knew.” She holds her composure and pushes away another tear. “I thought you knew,” she repeats weakly.
My anger breaks, and I lean my head back against the door and close my eyes.
Suddenly exhausted.
