59. BLAKE
BLAKE
I sat across from my sister in the corner booth of the busy coffee shop, wrapping my hands around my latte. The rich scent of espresso mingled with the sweetness of freshly baked pastries.
“Look,” I started, tracing the rim of my cup, ready to move on from the small talk to the point of why I’d asked her to come. “I think it’s time we talk about what happened that day.”
Faith’s eyes widened, but I caught something else: shock giving way to relief. Like maybe she’d been wanting to talk about this too.
“I feel like everything changed after that,” I said.
“We got separated,” she murmured, fidgeting with her cardigan sleeve.
“It was more than that.” The espresso machine hissed loudly. “We always had each other, and then something shifted. When they were finishing the investigation, you seemed a million miles away.”
She frowned at the untouched muffin between us. “I suppose I was processing everything.”
“When we’d see each other, I got the impression talking about it would only upset you more. So I kept quiet, but looking back, I’m not sure that was the right call.” Because look at her. I could still see the shadows trying to claim her.
“That’s what we do, isn’t it?” Faith tightened her grip on her cup. “Put the big stuff in a box. Pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Trauma has a way of silencing people,” I offered.
She nodded. “Having someone try to kill you, then witnessing you kill him instead…” The coffee grinder whirred during her pause. “Not exactly casual conversation material.”
The memory of it sliced through my gut. “I did it to protect you.”
“I know.” Her eyes met mine, glistening. “You did what I couldn’t. What I wanted to do so many times.”
Not many people would admit to fantasizing over killing their foster dad. That alone both made me worry for Faith, and feel closer to her all at the same time.
What had that tragic day done to her? What demons had it unleashed?
Something moved behind her eyes when she spoke about it, something dark and shadowed.
I hoped I was wrong.
Her voice dropped lower. “You saved my life, Blake. I’ve never properly thanked you for that.” She wiped a tear. “Without you, I wouldn’t be here.”
Relief settled into my heart that the distance I’d felt between us wasn’t, in fact, some deep-seeded fear of me or something.
“I wish we’d talked sooner,” I said.
“Me too. But we’re not exactly great at that.” She pushed her coffee aside. “It was easier to just lock it away.”
“Still. I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?”
“For not talking about this years ago.” I met her eyes. “But mostly, I’m sorry that I didn’t smash in his skull sooner.”
Faith paused, but then, her lips tilted up on one side and she reached across the table to clasp her hand on mine.
“My big scary brother.”
“No more distance between us,” I ordered. “Can you live with that?”
“I can live with that.”
My turn to smile. “Good. Because I want you in my life, Faith.”
“Well, then.” She sat back, taking a sip of her coffee. “Catch me up on everything I’ve missed.”