I brush my thumb along her jaw, then lean in and kiss her.
It’s brief, but her lips soften for half a second.
This isn’t the moment to fight her. She has enough on her plate, so I step outside before I push.
She needs space.
I’m halfway to my car when I hear my name. “Beckett.”
I turn and see Piper following me.
She looks like Madison in structure. They have the same cheekbones, but Piper’s hair is almost black compared to Madison’s copper, and her eyes are softer.
“Is everything alright?”
She tucks her hands into her sleeves. “Don’t tell her I spoke with you.”
My brow lifts. “That depends.”
“She’ll try and shut you out,” Piper says quietly. “She does that when things get bad. When she feelslike she’s the weak one. She doesn’t let people see this part. Not really.”
I think about the way Madison stepped between her mother and the world that night. The way she cracked only when she thought no one was watching.
Piper swallows. “She thinks that if you see too much, you’ll leave.”
I hold her gaze. “I’m not leaving.”
Piper searches my face, measuring it. “She won’t believe you.”
“She doesn’t need to believe me yet.”
A flicker of something like hope crosses her expression. “She’s been the strong one since we were kids. She doesn’t know how to not be.”
“I’m not asking her to stop being strong.”
“Then what are you asking?”
I glance back at the house. “For her to let someone else be strong too.”
Piper nods. “Please don’t let her push you away. We need her, but she needs someone too.”
I give her a small smile. “I’m not that easy to scare.”
A faint, relieved smile curves her lips. “Good.”
I know this isn’t about winning Madison. It’s about standing still long enough that she realizes I’m not moving.
Fifty-Four
Madison
It’s been a week.
A full seven days since the floor dropped out from under my family’s feet and I had to catch them all before they hit the basement.
I stayed, of course. I slept in my old bedroom. I became a machine. I set alarms for medication, I made lists my mother didn’t ask for, and I watched my father move through the hallways with a careful kind of gratitude.
Noah came home and took over the heavy lifting. Piper and Rowan showed up with groceries and those awkward, pitying smiles I hate. Eventually, the foglifted, the apologies started, and the slow process of rebuilding “normal” began.
