Page 151 of These White Lies

She opens a cabinet, pulls down a mug, then fills it with coffee.

“She doesn’t want to be a victim, or feel like she’s responsible for everything that happened,” Sera says with her back still to me.

“None of it was her fault.”

“Trust me—she feels it was, anyway.” Sera turns to face me, clutching the mug so tightly in front of her that I can see the white in her knuckles.

I shake my head. “I’ve told her it wasn’t. I tell her over and over how strong and brave she is.”

Sera snorts and sets down the mug. “Yeah, well, telling someone they’re strong doesn’t mean shit when they feel liketheir power’s been stripped away. You told me she prides herself on being independent and handling her own shit.”

“Yeah?”

“And youkeeptelling her how brave and strong she is? What message do you think you are giving her?”

I stare at her blankly. I’m pretty sure Sera doesn’t think the right answer is the obvious one—that I think she’s brave and strong.

She widens her eyes at me like I’m an idiot and then throws her hands up in frustration. “Men,” she mutters under her breath before leaving the room.

It’s not until I follow a minute later that I realize she’s jogging up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Fuck. I take the steps three at a time, but by the time I reach the common room, Elizabeth’s door is already standing open.

“Enough is enough,” Sera says firmly.

Elizabeth, bent over her laptop in bed, is staring at Sera shocked.

“The pity party was fun while it lasted, but it’s over now. Lights are on, and it’s time to go.”

“Sera,” I hiss, stepping in after her.

My sister doesn’t even look at me. “She needs to hear this.”

Elizabeth is still staring, her body practically thrumming. I can’t tell if she’s pissed or afraid, and not knowing makes me mad.

“You think I don’t know what’s going through your head?” Sera demands. “Because if anyone does—I do.”

Elizabeth shakes her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” Sera crosses her arms. “You’ve been hiding in here. I get it. If I looked like that…” She gestures at the healing bruises. “I’d hide, too. But you will heal. Youarehealing. It’s time to get on with it. Live your life again.”

“That’s a bit like the pot and the kettle,” Elizabeth snaps, glaring now as she jumps from the bed, her shoulders squared.

I don’t move. Should I stop this? I haven’t heard that fire in her voice in days.

Sera doesn’t back down. “Probably,” she admits, then grabs the collar of her shirt and yanks it down to show the scars near her collarbone. “Do you think I’m weak?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth replies, indignant. “That’s different.”

“How?”

Elizabeth opens her mouth, then closes it. No words come.

“An asshole hurt you the same way an asshole hurt me,” Sera says, quieter now. “Well, not the same way, but you get where I’m going.”

Elizabeth’s lips twitch. I almost cheer.

“You don’t strike me as a woman who lets people walk all over you. From what I hear, you were a go-for-the-balls kind of lawyer. So why the fuck would you let these people win now by hiding up here? You let them change how you live your life—then that’s what will have happened.”