Page 134 of Queen of Nothing

His smile is small. “I know that you missed home. That it started off small. Thoughts that you let intrude into your mind, perhaps only at night when you were falling asleep. Then those thoughts came in during waking hours, and you fought them a little less each time. The more you realised the freedom you chased was a lie, the more you started to yearn for home.

“Perhaps you didn’t yearn for anyone in particular. Not your grandmothers, your parents, your friends—if you ever truly had any.

“Perhaps you simply yearned for the comfort, of everything being done for you, of being doted on.

“That yearning grew in you until it overpowered the sense of obligation you had to Serena. And I know this, because that—” he lifts the glass in a salute gesture “—is how we managed to stay on your trail.”

I stare at him.

Unblinking, unmoving, I just stare.

The shame is searing my cheeks.

Dray finishes his scotch, then sets down the glass. “The thing about shields is that they only protect you from the outside. But inside, yearning is a rot, and you decayed your shield each time you let yourself miss home.”

A pang hits my chest, hard.

The phone booths.

Sofía warned me about thoughts of home.

I didn’t just reminisce. I parked at phone booths, let my mind fall into my family, and invited them in.

Dray pushes off the desk. “Even now, you are trying to convince yourself that you should be ashamed of picking up that phone and calling us. But ask yourself, aren’t you happier already? Aren’t you relieved to be home?”

That breaks me.

And I crumble.

The tears roll over me like waves, and I toss the tumbler at his shoes. The glass bounces off the edge of the rug, scotch splashing out, but if Dray makes any move for me, I don’t see it, because I bury my warped face in my hands.

The sobs shudder me.

Because he’s right. I did it.

I yearned—but I also picked up that phone in the booth and called home.

I gave the address and hung up the phone, then parked houses down from Ms Brown’s…

I knew what was coming.

I gave us up.

I…

I wish I was stronger.

I wish I was better.

It’s a shameful thing, something that must be deeply wrong inside of me, broken, because I have every reason and more to not want to be here.

But I don’t regret it.

I run my fingers down my wet cheeks.

The breath hitches in my chest. “I… I shouldn’t…” I shake my head. “I shouldn’t want to be here.”

Dray hasn’t moved from the desk. “But you do.”