I hadn’t made it far at all before the sea took me. The waves dragged me under again. Longer this time.
I was back up, gasping for air.
And then under again.
The high-pitched ringing returned, sharp and full. Maybe for the last time in my life.
I didn’t fight it. Not anymore. All I could do was beg: If there was any god watching, please let this flashback be a kind one. Let me drown to something soft. Let me go with a memory that didn’t hurt. Maybe it would be when Daniel had smiled at me for the first time. In sunny Boston Common.
Water swirled around me as a vision took hold.
I was a little girl, hiding in a dresser. Peeking through the crack into the room outside. A harsh yellow light filled the space.
It was the room next to Daniel’s and mine, the one with all the photographs of women on the walls.
My room.
I knew it, without a doubt.
Out in the hallway, Cynthia and that man were screaming. Awful words.
“Bitch.”
“Whore.”
“I’ll kill you.”
Something shattered.
I curled tighter in the dark. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks. Then—
A small hand reached for mine. I looked to the side. The boy sat next to me, hidden in the same dresser. He smiled at me and gently turned my hand over, placing something into my palm.
A pig figurine.
“I got this one for your collection,” he whispered.
I smiled and wrapped my fingers around it as he wrapped his fingers around mine. Even in all that horror, I didn’t feel alone. I felt loved.
And when I looked at his face—
I knew.
I finally knew.
He was the only person who’d ever loved me without condition. He’d been with me through hell, never leaving my side.
That little boy was Daniel.
Chapter 26
I shot up in bed, gasping for air. Dry jogging pants clung to my legs, and my T-shirt was twisted around my waist. My fingers brushed something rough on my scalp. Bandages. Another glance revealed a few wrapped around my arms too.
For a second, it all felt like a terrible, twisted dream.
Rain still pattered against the windows of my bedroom at the Breakers, but the violent howling had calmed to a steady whisper. The sky outside was a muted slate, the storm’s fury reduced to a drizzly gray lull. Faint light glowed from the ceiling fixture. The power was back.
The door creaked open.
