Page 64

She was right there beside me and yet she felt so far away. Her touch was cold, her eyes lacked that signature twinkle I longed to see. Nothing was more important to me right then than getting her back, and I didn't care what I had to do to make that happen.

Leading her down the stairs, I stopped at the door that went into the basement. Turning to face her, I curled my arm around her back and brought her in to my chest. I searched her eyes before speaking, looking for signs that my Cyprus was still inside.

A shimmer, a spark, a small flicker of that light she used to carry, that was what I needed from her. I couldn't see it, I couldn't find her in the sadness that crusted her features.

Help her to heal. Make her believe in you.

“I meant what I said, I love you.” Running my thumb along her bottom lip, I traced the side of her cheek. “And if you decide that you hate me, if you think that you'll never be able to forgive me, I'll understand.”

“Birch—”

Pushing my finger to her lips, I silenced her. “No, right now, this is for you. After you know everything, once you see the whole picture, then you can tell me. But not until then.”

Releasing her waist, I clicked on the light and opened the door. It had been a long time since I went down those stairs, since I entered the room my father had ordered sealed for the rest of his natural born life.

He had given me strict orders to never talk about that room, to never open the vault that could rekindle her mind and destroy us forever. I did as I was told; I always did as I was told.

Each step creaked under our weight as plumes of dust exploded out with force, coiling around our legs as our heels disrupted the dormant granules.

“Why are we going in the basement?”

Stopping at the bottom, I pointed at the back wall. “We're here for that.”

“For what? It's just a wall.”

Tracing the seam I could still see in the paneling, I shook my head. “No, it's more than a wall, that's what he always wanted you to think.” Running my hands over the paneling, I felt around until I found the small notch in the crease.

Pressing in hard, I heard it creek and crack as I pulled the hidden door open. More dust blew out, causing both of us cough.

Waving away the thick cloud, Cyprus took a step forward, her face contorting in wonder. “What the hell is this?”

“This is what you need to see.” Hitting the small switch on the wall, a dim light popped on, exposing the tired, worn room.

It was exactly the same as it had been eight years ago. And in that single instant it felt like we had stepped back in time. I felt a flood of emotions rush through my system, all the same feelings I had experienced back then.

When my father came home that night, I was supposed to be in bed. There was a commotion downstairs with him and my mother. She was pissed, screaming at him in a way I had never heard her do before. Her voice penetrated my ears with a shrill tone, her rage building high notes that matched the sound of a train whistle.

Quietly, I made my way to the middle of the stairs so I could listen and not be seen. My father was begging her for forgiveness, he was pleading with her to calm down and let him speak. She wouldn't hear it. She kept telling him he needed to fix it, that he had to figure out something or she was taking me and leaving.

I had no idea what he had done, but I knew it had to be really bad for her to threaten him with his own family. I just couldn't have ever expected that his mishap had involved such an innocent person.

“You wanted me to answer your questions, I'm showing you instead.”

Cyprus walked to the back wall, kicking the thin sleeping bag bundled up on the floor. Her eyes were watering, and I knew she was trying her hardest not to cry. Sucking in a long breath of air, she turned to face me.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Pointing to the left, I stepped into the corner. “This is the corner I would sit in when I came down to see you. I told you it was my favorite corner, I gave you an answer that was a lie. I lied to you before I really knew you. I didn't like lying to you then, and I don't like lying to you now. I never liked it, Cyprus, not once was I ever happy about the shit I said.”

“This is the room. . .” Twisting her foot into the floor, she looked back down at the sleeping bag. “This was where I slept.”

“Yeah. Most of the time you laid it out against that wall. You never really talked to me much back then, a little bit here and there. I figured you liked that spot because you could see the door easier.”

“And the chair? Is this—”

“Yes,” I said, “That's the one my dad used to try and get you to listen to him.”

“You knew about that?”