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confines she’d kept them trapped in for years.

“The house used to echo with laughter. Heather was the

miracle baby. The baby my parents kept trying for after they

had me. She was the most perfect newborn, born six years

after I was. She was annoying. Bratty. Spoiled. Still so perfect.

She was the loveliest toddler. She had so much light that it was

impossible to hate her or even be jealous of her. She became

such a good friend even though she was half my age. We did

everything together. She always look

ed up to me. We read

stories together at night. I tucked her in and got her ready for

school in the morning. I didn’t have to. My mom was always

there, and she was a good mom. I did it because I wanted to.”

A pause, filled with all the pain in the world, sucked into that

gaping space like a vortex. “She’d be heartbroken knowing

who I’ve become.”

Coralyn turned from the stove, the spatula in her hand,

sadness and hope burning in her eyes. “I think she’d be proud

too. It’s not all bad. Personally, I think you do have some

redeeming qualities.”

Giana let out a burst of sharp laughter. “Yeah, I’m good

with a strap and a set of bindings.”

Coralyn set down the spatula, moved the frying pan off the

burner, and shut the heat off. She turned and held out her arms

and approached. “So much more than that.”

She was going to hug her, and then she was doing it. She

was so much shorter, but the power in that hug nearly crippled

Giana. She curled into her, wrapping her arms around

Coralyn’s shoulders, holding her back. Holding her and then

holding her too tight. Pulling her in. She didn’t want to stop.