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confines she’d kept them trapped in for years.
“The house used to echo with laughter. Heather was the
miracle baby. The baby my parents kept trying for after they
had me. She was the most perfect newborn, born six years
after I was. She was annoying. Bratty. Spoiled. Still so perfect.
She was the loveliest toddler. She had so much light that it was
impossible to hate her or even be jealous of her. She became
such a good friend even though she was half my age. We did
everything together. She always look
ed up to me. We read
stories together at night. I tucked her in and got her ready for
school in the morning. I didn’t have to. My mom was always
there, and she was a good mom. I did it because I wanted to.”
A pause, filled with all the pain in the world, sucked into that
gaping space like a vortex. “She’d be heartbroken knowing
who I’ve become.”
Coralyn turned from the stove, the spatula in her hand,
sadness and hope burning in her eyes. “I think she’d be proud
too. It’s not all bad. Personally, I think you do have some
redeeming qualities.”
Giana let out a burst of sharp laughter. “Yeah, I’m good
with a strap and a set of bindings.”
Coralyn set down the spatula, moved the frying pan off the
burner, and shut the heat off. She turned and held out her arms
and approached. “So much more than that.”
She was going to hug her, and then she was doing it. She
was so much shorter, but the power in that hug nearly crippled
Giana. She curled into her, wrapping her arms around
Coralyn’s shoulders, holding her back. Holding her and then
holding her too tight. Pulling her in. She didn’t want to stop.
