Page 134 of 500 First Editions


Font Size:

I had to get it out. I had to purge the poison and hurt so I could move on.

But there was too much to be wounded by.

Shep never told me he was my father, when I had wanted him to be my dad so badly.

My mom had lied to me my entire life, making my sister hate me.

Lisa—someone I had confided in about everything—withheld the same information.

Greg probably hated me . . .

Ryan knew how much I loved Shep, and didn’t tell me. Just like my mother. Just like Lisa. Just like Shep.

I loved my family, but it hadn’t been reciprocated. Love and respect required tough conversations. Something they hadn’t been willing to walk through.

Amber could have had her dad.

I could have had mine.

She could have had a relationship with her stepdad instead of one where she resented him.

I could have had a positive relationship with Greg instead of always being ignored.

Mom and Lisa probably would have gotten along.

And I could have had Ryan Ford.

Lies are a spiderweb, and a life built on one—no matter how big and complex—will always collapse.

My tears stained the envelopes as I began the purge and opened and read every single card. It hurt a million times worse than I thought it would.

Shep had been my dad in every sense of the word. He showed it in his actions, words, and intentions.

But I never got to call him dad. I never got to see him smile when I did. I would never get to. And maybe that’s what hurt the worst.

One by one, I unblocked them all from my phone.

Mom.

Lisa.

Greg.

Amber.

But not Ryan.

It had been four days since I spoke to them. Even though, for all intents and purposes, I could stay hidden, it would just delay the inevitable. I waited until it was a respectable time to call someone in Kansas, and started with the easiest person on the list.

“Hello?” Amber’s sleep-filled voice was barely audible over the waves.

I pressed the phone closer to my ear and took a deep breath of salt air.

“Autumn?” she said again, a little clearer this time. It wasn’t her usual snarky tone. She sounded . . . concerned.

“Hey,” I said.

Amber sighed. “Well, at least we know you’re not dead. Mom’s flipping out.”