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“Oh.” Her lips close. “How… How did you find out?”

I swallow. “Because I was on the island. For three summers. Your dad is the man who read to me. And you…” I inhale a shaky breath. “You were the little girl.”

Ava’s fingers stop tracing, and her breath stutters.

Oh God, have I said too much?

I clear my throat. “It was only one summer. I never saw you again after that. I asked your dad about you. He told me there was never a little girl. That I must’ve imagined you.”

She exhales shakily. “That’s what he told me too.”

Shock vibrates through me. “What do you mean?”

“I…” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I remember a little boy too. It’s this faint memory. Almost an echo. The image of a beautiful little boy watching me play the piano. Years later, I asked my dad about it. He says there were no other families on the island. That I must have remembered it wrong.”

“He lied.” My eyes mist over. “The little boy was me. You were my first taste of safety. My first memory of something good. I didn’t understand it at the time. Couldn’t name it. But I carried it with me. Even when I tried to forget. Even when I told myself there was no such thing as goodness, something in me kept believing. Because of you. You were my savior, Ava.”

When I tilt my head to look at her, tears are slipping down her cheeks. She doesn’t wipe them away. She just presses her forehead to mine.

I squeeze her against my chest, my heart thudding, like I’ve been holding her my entire life. Because I have.

“It’s always been you, precious girl. You were my first love. And all this time, I’ve been trying to find my way back to you.”