“Don’t,” I interrupt, my voice low and dangerous. “Don’t reduce her to something done to her. She walked into that room on her own two feet. She made a choice, whether you like it or not.”
Weston’s eyes narrow. “You bought her.”
“Not in the way you think. She’s not property,” I retort sharply. “It was a vetted program. A contract. A choice. All the proceeds go back into the program to help people. She could’ve walked away at any point.”
Boone’s mouth twists in disdain. “She’s naïve.”
I approach, and Boone halts, sensing the threat.
“She’s not naïve,” I assert. “She’s hurting.”
“So are we,” Caleb says gruffly. The grief in his eyes is old, carved in like a permanent scar. It’s the grief of losing loved ones that never leaves; it just changes shape.
“I know you love her,” I state.
Caleb’s jaw tightens. “She’s all we have left.”
“And you treatin’ her like that makes her fragile,” I reply. “Like she’s the last piece of your parents you can’t lose, so you lock her down and call it protection.”
Caleb flinches.
“We were doing our best.” Weston’s voice is muted.
“I know,” I say, surprised by the truth of it. “But your best is suffocating her.”
Boone’s eyes flash with anger. “You don't know us.”
My gaze meets his. “I know men who’ve been through hell and came back grippin’ on to the only thing they still trust. I recognize fear when it masquerades as love.”
The porch falls silent.
“Where is she going?” Caleb asks quietly.
I glance toward the field. Jane is a dark silhouette against the snow, moving quickly, her shoulders hunched.
“She’s running,” Weston observes, stepping forward.
I instinctively block his path. “No.”
Weston stops, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“She doesn’t need three brothers coming at her like that at this point,” I explain.
Caleb raises his chin. “Then what does she need?”
I don’t hesitate. “She needs you to listen. She needs you to stop treatin’ her like a problem and start recognizing her as a person.”
Boone’s jaw clenches. “We do.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You love her, but you don’t truly see her. Not the way she needs.”
Caleb’s expression hardens again. “And you do?”
I stare at him for a few seconds before I finally state the truth that’s been sitting in my chest since the moment she walked out the door. “She didn’t run from you. She ran to herself.”
Weston’s eyes widen with understanding. Boone’s anger falters for a moment. Caleb’s expression cracks a little, as if something inside him finally accepts what she’s been trying to say for years.
Caleb exhales. “We found out about the auction this morning.”
