Page 119 of Worth the Fall

“I love you.”

“How much?”

“With all my heart.”

His smile makes me feel like ants are crawling on me. “Get to bed, now.”

I hurry to my bedroom upstairs and shut the door. Then I open it because the darkness brings monsters.

But the monster is downstairs . . .

I struggle for air as I lie in bed and pull the covers tighter around me. The strange surroundings of the hotel room I’m in only add to my discombobulation.

I replay as much of the dream as I can in my head, and one thing stands out above all the rest.

With all my heart.

How could I tell a person who just molested me that I love him?

How could I spend years of my life cutting my arms to deal with the pain a man who was supposed to love me unconditionally caused me?

It all comes back to trust.

The Reeve girls.

I think back to how, while we were on the road, my mom didn’t trust anyone. If someone showed the slightest interest in me—even in the most benign of ways—we moved on to the next city. To the next adventure. To the next place where no one would notice us for a while.

It all comes down to trust.

She didn’t trust anyone with me.

And now? Now I don’t even trust myself.