Milly chews thoughtfully, then says, “You know, you were different before... before the accident.”
I look at her sharply. “Different how?”
“I don’t know exactly. You changed over the last six months or so. Like you were hiding something.” Her voice is careful, measured, as if she’s afraid of pushing too hard.
I stare at the wall ahead, trying to process this. “What do you mean? What was I hiding?”
Milly shrugs, breaking off another piece of chocolate. “I don’t know. You just seemed...secretive. You were always on your computer and were jumpy when anyone came into your room.”
She studies my face, then asks, “Do you still write in a diary?”
“A diary?” I repeat, confused.
“Yeah. You’ve written in a diary since you were about seven. You were religious about it.”
I try to recall this habit but come up empty. “I don’t remember that.”
“Have you seen one? Since you’ve been back home?” Milly asks, her eyes scanning my room as if the diary might materialize.
I shake my head slowly. “No. I haven’t found anything like that.”
I break off another piece of chocolate, the rich, sweet scent wafting up as I bring it to my lips. Something about this—sitting cross-legged on my bed with Milly, sharing chocolate—feels right, like muscle memory.
“A diary,” I murmur, letting the next chocolate chunk melt on my tongue. The taste unlocks something—not a memory exactly, but a feeling. Comfort. Safety. Milly and I have done this countless times before.
“Yeah, you were obsessive about it. You’d write in it every night before bed.” Milly leans back against my headboard. “You kept it hidden, though. Even from me.”
I swallow the chocolate, trying to imagine myself writing secrets. What would I have needed to hide? And from whom?
“Do you think it’s still here somewhere?” I ask, glancing around my room. The space feels both familiar and foreign, like a childhood home revisited after decades away.
Milly shrugs. “Maybe. You were pretty good at hiding things when you wanted to.”
I take another bite of chocolate, savoring the way it melts against the roof of my mouth.
“Oh, by the way,” Milly says, brushing chocolate from her fingers, “there’s a big family dinner tomorrow night.”
I tense immediately. “What? Why?”
“Rafe is feeling better, and Dom wants to welcome Lia, his sons, and Cade back into the family.” She picks at a loose thread on my comforter. “He says he has something he wants to do.”
My stomach knots at the thought of a formal dinner with everyone present. Too many eyes watching me, too many relationships I don’t fully understand.
“Lia and his sons.” Something clicks in my brain. “Wait—Lia is dating her stepbrothers?”
Milly bursts out laughing, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “She married Dante.”
“Dante…”
“Your stepbrother…Lia’s stepbrother.”
My mouth drops open, the half-eaten piece of chocolate forgotten between my fingers.
“I know, right?” Milly grins, clearly enjoying my shock. “This family hides many secrets.”
I roll the remaining piece of chocolate between my fingers, feeling it soften against my skin. The sweetness lingers on my tongue, a small comfort in this unfamiliar world I’m now trying to work out how I fit in.
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” Milly asks, her voice breaking through my thoughts.
