Page 49

With tender feet, I crunched through the leaves and debris, doing my best to not be too loud. There was no doubt she knew I was coming and would find her eventually, but I didn't want to scare her off.

Rounding a few thick trees, I stopped and breathed a sigh of relief. Cyprus was sitting on the ground, running her hands over the earth around her thighs.

“Figured you'd find me here at some point,” she said with her back to me. “What do you want?”

“I'm surprised you stayed then.” Walking to her side, I sat down beside her, cupping my hands in my lap. “Why didn't you run when you heard me coming?”

Her face hung low, chin dipping into her chest. “I don't want to run, I want to learn.”

“What do you want, Cyprus? What do you want me to say?”

Her head twisted side to side, lips turning down. “I don't want you to say anything.”

Letting out a deep breath, I tipped my head back to look up at the sky. “Tell me what you know. What did they say to you?”

“Birch, don't.”

“Why? Why won't you tell me? If I knew then I could—”

“You can't do anything. I need to figure it out for myself.” Her eyes finally came up to mine, and for the first time since we came home I finally felt like she was going to be honest with me. “I want to learn on my own, I want to see it on my own. I need my memories. That's the only thing that will help right now.”

I understood what she meant when she said it. For so many years she knew nothing, but she knew it was stored someplace inside her head. She had told me that she felt like her brain was on mute, and she wished there was a button to turn everything back on.

It hurt me to know that I had the answers she needed and couldn't give them to her. I almost had several times, when I found her crying alone, filled with so much pain. I just couldn't do it.

When I was younger I kept it in because my father told me I had to, but as we got older, I did it because I had lost the strength to expose him for what he had done. She was happy to have our family, for all the wrongs, my father had done what he set out to do. He gave her her life back.

It wasn't just her relationship with him that kept me from telling her. I didn't tell her because I was scared she'd run away, that she would leave if she knew the truth. The thought of her leaving, that cut me deep.

And then one day it all stopped. Cyprus stopped crying over the family she couldn't find, she stopped questioning her past. I thought that maybe she had finally given up, that the prison her memories were encased in had ultimately locked its doors for good.

I was wrong. I don't think it ever really went away, it went dormant, waiting idly by for the perfect moment to spring back.

My only worry now was what she felt about me. I didn't want her to doubt us or to fall out of love with me. . . because we were real.

Besides keeping my father's secret, everything else we shared was the truth. My feelings, my fears, the laughs and arguments; all of it.

“You know I love you, right?” Picking up a small bushel of pine needles, I started plucking them free one by one. “I really do love you.”

“I don't know what to believe right now.” Blinking slowly, her brows folded as her eyes searched mine. “There's so much that's still missing, and so much that's been put in its place.”

“Why did you come here?” I asked, dropping the bushel and resting back on my palms.

Cyprus looked around, stopping at the tree we had told her I had found her under years ago. “Because this is where it started. This was where I met you for the first time, this was where my memories began and ended all in the same breath.”

My heart pounded with her words, taking me back to that day, that moment, the instant her eyes opened wide and her new life began. All I ever wanted to do was save her.

I wanted to save her then and I wanted to save her now.

“Do you think knowing the truth will really help you?”

“Yes. Why the hell wouldn't it? Wouldn't you want to know?”

Shrugging my shoulder, I shifted on the ground and scooted closer to her. “I don't know, maybe. I guess I just don't understand what you think you'll gain from knowing. What if what you learn hurts you more? How will you feel then?”

“I'm already broken.” Lowering her lids, Cyprus pursed her lips. “How much worse could it get, Birch?”

How the hell do I answer that?