Page 118 of Yours to Keep
CJ says it before anyone else can, and Deck nods once. CJ’s next words shock me to my core.
“Adrian visited her.”
My fingers tighten around his instantly. My body goes still in a way that has nothing to do with calm.
“He asked about you,” CJ continues softly. “Where you might be.”
I already knew.
Some part of me already knew before he said it.
But hearing it still cracks something open. I’m angry.
Angry for Marge. Angry for me. It burns low and sharp; it doesn’t flare. It settles deep. I hate the way Adrian turns people into tools without ever touching them directly.
Marge’s face flashes in my mind. Her soft voice. Her tired eyes. Asking if I had eaten. Telling me to stay warm. Talking about Campbell River like it was something gentle instead of just a place on a map.
She saved me, and now she’s gone.
“She didn’t know,” CJ says quickly. “She wasn’t aware. It wasn’t intentional.”
I nod. “I know.”
And I do. I know what medication does. I know what confusion looks like. I know she wouldn’t have given him anything if she had been fully herself.
“I know,” I repeat, softer this time, looking at CJ.
But it doesn’t make it easier. Because there is no one to hate here except the one person it always comes back to.
“I’m not angry with her,” I say quietly. “None of this is on her.”
My eyes sting now.
“This belongs to him.”
Adrian.His name feels like poison in my mouth. I need air. I stand and look down at CJ.
“I need a walk.”
CJ doesn’t argue. He just nods and stands, but I shake my head. “I want to go alone.”
I look at him when I say it, daring him to fight me, even though I don’t want him to.
Finn stands immediately. “I’ll come.”
No hesitation. No argument. Just fact.
Deck looks at me, then at CJ.
“We’ll come too,” he says. “I’m sorry, Eli. But not while Adrian is still out there.”
I exhale through my nose. I know he’s right, so I nod.
“Fine.”
* * *
We all leave together. Finn and I walk along the waterfront first. Neither of us talks at the start, just the sound of footsteps on gravel, wind rolling in off the water, that steady dull rhythm of movement carrying us forward while everything inside me still feels too loud.
