I turn the wheelchair and park Emmett at the end of a picnic table, taking the bag from him. Then I sit and shove his sandwich toward him.
“No one is better off alone.”
“I’m the reason they’re not here. So, yeah, I am.” He says it so quietly I almost miss it.
Rory and his grandpa.
Somehow, I know that whatever happened to them is the root of why he thinks he deserves to be alone.
“I have an older brother who’s almost as good at pushing people away as you are. You know what it’s taught me?”
“To be bossy as hell?”
“Probably, but that’s not all.”
I take another bite and chew, mustering up the courage to keep trying.
“People who push the hardest need kindness and love the most.”
I let that sink in for a second—sure he’s about to tell me to take him back to his room. When he doesn’t fight back, I seize the opportunity to say the other things on my mind.
“You’re not a monster, Emmett Slate. The only person you’re a threat to is yourself. Push me away all you want, but I won’t go as easily as the rest.”
“What if I tell you I want you to leave me alone?”
“You’d be lying to both of us,” I say, balling up the baggie from my sandwich. “Are you a liar, Emmett?”
CHAPTER
SIX
EMMETT
Her voice is impossibly sweet as she taunts me, coating every rough edge of me like thick honey.
The way she picks out and pokes at all my most painful parts should piss me off. With anyone else, I would shut down. But Aspen does it with a care I’ve rarely known.
Not from my parents, who were professional liars. They lied to teachers and social workers. Lied to me and about me. Worse, they made me lieforthem. Those lies were landmines scattered through my youth—destroying my trust and sense of stability from an early age.
Not from the social workers that handled my care after my parents’ death. Who seemed to give up when placing an angry pre-teen became too much of a challenge.
Or from the therapist I’d been sent to see after being placed with family that I’d never met.
My grandparents tried, but by the time I got to them my trust was eroded beyond repair.
Rory was the only person who was able to sink behind the walls I’d built up. But she’s been gone for a long time and my walls are even thicker than they were then.
Countless systems, processes, and people failed me, teaching me not to trust anyone or anything.
But the nurse sitting across from calling me a liar is harder to push away.
Not that I haven’t tried.
Aspen sees through every defense and keeps coming back. And I can’t figure out why I haven’t told her to stop point-blank.
I’m not interested in whatever she’s trying to accomplish.
I don’twantto be.
