My body struggles to comply, though, prompting her to step back and gently tug at my arms.
“Look at me, Rev. Breathe in.”
I lift my head to see her bent at the waist so she's eye level with me,concern pinching her brows. I rest my chin on the tops of my knees, my chest finally expanding enough to draw in a deep breath.
“Good,” she whispers soothingly. “Now, breathe out.”
I do, and after a few more minutes of her guiding me through the exercise, my heart rate slows, and my lungs finally realize they’re not being poisoned.
Her features sharpen as my vision clears. She cups my face in her warm palms, studying my face carefully with a frown. Gently, her thumbs wipe away a couple of tears that broke free.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, fighting back a fresh round teasing the edges of my eyes. “It’s not even real.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” she clips, though her rage is reserved only for Dread. She doesn’t even have to ask who did it.
It’s always him.
“I couldn't fucking sleep last night,” she tells me, her voice trembling. “I tried to come check on you, but I couldn't get out of my goddamn driveway.Mi papájust finished helping me plow my driveway five minutes before you called, so if you hadn't, I would've shown up within the next ten minutes, anyway.”
I shake my head, and whisper, “It's okay.”
I almost tell her I wasn't even home, but I can't get myself to focus on much outside of that fucking dummy.
“I-I thought it was the copycat who did it at first,” I admit, my voice cracking. “He knows what I wrote in that letter to the board, so I thought maybe he is working with the copycat and had him send me a message. It doesn’t even matter it wasn’t Lionel this time, because he's still going to kill me when he gets?—”
“Hey, hey. He can’t get to you here, okay?” Sable quickly cuts in. “You’re safe, and Dread’s just a sick fucking asshole.”
I nod, though her words do little to assure me.
Sophomore year, I was dating my first college boyfriend, Matt, and he’d just broken up with me. I got too drunk, made Sable come pick me up, and proceeded to spill the fucking beans about… well, everything. But especially the promise I made Lionel when I was six.
I held on to that secret for so long, and I needed to tellsomeone. My volatile emotions from the breakup lit the match, and the near-poisonous amount of alcohol sloshing around in my stomach made it goboom. The truth exploded out of me, and there was no stopping it.
Afterward, I fully expected Sable to judge me. Instead, she held me while I cried, transforming her from a best friend to my second emergency contact.
Naturally, I told her about Lionel getting out of prison. There’s no one else to tellbuther.
While I absolutely adore both her parents, who treat me like a second daughter, they’re some of the few people who know little about the Locksmithand his crimes, let alone that he’s my father. Sable insists they’d never hold it against me, but I’m not willing to risk them looking at me differently.
When someone learns about the Locksmith,it’s inevitable they learn about me and my mother, too, and they either share the public’s opinion, or they believe he’s guilty. Which means they either stand by my public support of him, or they believe me to be complicit. Both options fucking suck.
Either way, Iamcomplicit.
“Did Dread find out about your father getting released yet?”
It’s impossible to contain the guilt creeping into my features. Noticing, she gives me a stern ‘what the fuck did you do now?’ look.
“No,” I say, my voice small.
I grab the letter from my nightstand, where I set it before I undressed earlier, and hesitantly hand it to her.
Frowning, she sits on the bed beside me, and as she reads over the mailing and return address, several emotions play across her face: confusion, shock, denial, and ultimately, horror.
“Is this… is this a letter informing him of Lionel’s release?” she asks cautiously as she looks up at me, like she doesn't truly want to know the answer.
I tighten my lips into a firm line, giving away my answer, and she gasps.
“Reverie, youdidn’t,” she whispers, her eyes rounding.
