I look at Ryan.
“I’m not going anywhere, William. You’re mine. We’ll be together again. I promised you I’d never leave you, and I mean that. I’m always here, William.”
“My name is Malin,” I snap. “Stop calling me William! I’m Malin Van Doren.”
“No, you’re my William!”Ryan hisses.
“Go away.”
“I will never?—”
“GO AWAY!” I shout. “LEAVE ME ALONE. Get out of my life. You can’t hurt me anymore, and you need to leave.”
Ryan flickers.“William, stop that!”
“MALIN!” I scream and get to my feet. “I’m not William. I’m Malin. Get out. Get out of my house. Get out of my life and out of my head. Leave.”
“Good,” Kip says. “Tell him he’s no longer welcome. You’re revoking the invitation to be a part of your life.”
“You’re not welcome here,” I repeat. “I revoke your invitation into my life. You aren’t allowed near me anymore.”
“NO!”Ryan screams as his image fades before coming back again.
“Leave, Ryan. Leave me alone. Go away. Get out of my life. Leave! You can’t hurt me anymore. You have no control over me!”
Ryan vanishes. I stare at the spot he’d once been, eyes wide. The room is silent. My heart pounds like drums in a rock band. Slowly, I lower Gracen’s shirt and take a deep breath of the air around me. Waiting for Ryan’s voice to fill my head.
He’s really gone? I look at Kip, and he’s smiling. “He’s gone, Malin. You’re free.”
Not knowing what else to do and completely overwhelmed, I burst into tears.
18
GRACEN
Six months later
Malin’s laughterfills the dock as he and Emerson run to the end and jump off, hand-in-hand. A minute later, their heads pop up, and more laughter fills the air.
I won’t go so far as to say that Malin is a new person. He’s not magically healed. There are traumas and internal scars that will never go away.
But for the first time in his entire twenty-five years, he’s living his own life without Ryan Johnston in it. He’s learning what taking control of his life means. He’s learning choices.
He’s also learning what it’s like to be completely alone. He spent fourteen years under Johnston’s hand and ten years with his ghost still inflicting damage. Malin’s discovering that silence can be just as scary as having Johnston’s ghost threatening hell every other minute.
He’s not enjoying the silence, even if he is enjoying his freedom without Ryan.
What I love most is that he’s smiling now. He’s able to laugh and play with his nieces and nephews. In some ways, he’s recapturing the childhood he was deprived of. He plays with the littles often—on the lake, in the bounce houses, painting or coloring, or running around and playing tag.
Malin confides in me often. Every night, he tells me something new he’s done that he’d never been allowed to do before. Sometimes, he’ll tell me something from his childhood. It’s not always relevant to what he did that day. Maybe it’s just something he remembers. Sometimes, it’s something he talked about with his therapist.
Jessica takes a seat beside me under the shade with her two-month-old little baby, Brynlee. “You did a good thing,” she says quietly.
I glance at her. My smile feels like it’s painted on. I can’t stop smiling, especially when Malin is around. He’s happy. I helped him find his happiness.
“Anyone would have done the same if they’d realized,” I say.
“We would have, but we didn’t see the same thing you did,” Jessica agrees. “He didn’t let anyone close enough to see the patterns you did.”
