“It’s not just anything when you’re wearing it.” His eyes traveled down my body and back up, slow and deliberate, and I struggled not to react. Struggled to keep the tremor inside. “Makes me want to?—”
“Trudy!”
I turned so fast I nearly stumbled, and Stephen’s hand tightened on my back, steadying me.
Grace.
She was standing in the doorway, one hand resting on her very pregnant belly, her face lit up with a smile that made my chest ache.
Eight months. It had been eight months since I’d seen her. Since those men had taken her.
Since I failed her.
All the air left my lungs.
She looked so happy. So alive. Sohere.
And all I could see was the terror in her eyes as they dragged her out the door.
“Grace,” I managed, my voice cracking. “You look... you look wonderful.”
And she did. Glowing. Happy. Alive.
No thanks to me.
She crossed the room and pulled me into a hug before I could protest, her belly pressing against mine. Stephen’s hand fell away from my back, and I felt the loss of his warmth immediately.
“I’m so glad you came,” Grace said, squeezing me tight. “I’m so sorry I haven’t come to see you.”
“I—” The words stuck in my throat. “Grace, no. I’m sorry?—”
“Stop.” She pulled back, her hands on my shoulders, her eyes fierce. “Trudy, no. Don’t do that.”
“But—”
“No.” Her voice was firm. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Do you hear me? It wasn’t your fault.”
“They took you from the bakery—” My voice broke. “I was right there. I should have?—”
“Should have what?” Grace’s grip tightened. “Gotten yourself killed? Is that what you think you should have done?”
“I should have donesomething?—”
“You did. You survived. You kept yourself safe. That’s what mattered.” Grace’s eyes were wet now, and she blinked rapidly. “Trudy, I don’t blame you. I never blamed you. Not for one second.”
The guilt was a living thing inside me, clawing at my ribs, suffocating me. “I hid behind the counter like a coward?—”
“You were smart,” Grace interrupted. “You stayed alive. Do you know what would have happened if you’d tried to stop them? They would have hurt you. Maybe killed you. And I would’ve had to live withthatfor the rest of my life.”
“Grace—”
“No. Listen to me.” Her hands moved to cup my face, forcing me to look at her. “What happened to me wasn’t your fault. It had nothing to do with you. They would have taken me from anywhere—the grocery store, the street, my own damn house. It didn’t matter where I was. They were coming for me no matter what.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “I keep seeing it. Over and over. The way you looked at me?—”
“I looked at you because I was scared. Because I was afraid for you,” Grace said softly. “Not because I blamed you. Never because I blamed you.” She pulled me into another hug, and this time I let myself hold on. “Please. I need you to believe that. I need you to let this go.”
I wanted to. God, I wanted to.
