Page 71 of Tainted Love

Lilah rolls her eyes. “Dante, she just lost everything. She needs to talk to somebody.” She leans in closer. “You think that maybe you can possibly relate to that?”

They both stare at me with purpose, silently reminding me of the day we all agreed never to talk about again.

I look up, my eyes swiping the ceiling before falling on Elijah. “Is it that bad?”

He sighs, hesitating his words. “It could be a lot worse, but… yeah. She’s got a long road ahead and it’s not the kind she’ll want to travel alone. I mean… if you weren’t up for it, why did you even bring her here at all?”

I wipe the last bit of dust off and stand up. Lilah silently holds her crutch over her head and passes it off to me as I walk out of the living room toward the stairs.

There’s silence as I climb them. I guess Lucy got tired of straining her wrist.

She sits on the bed with her head down and quickly wipes her face when she notices I’m here.

“Kind of useless, don’t you think?” she asks, staring at the crutches. “I can’t walk if I can’t leave the damn bed.”

I lean them against the wall by the door before closing it behind me. A bit of confusion crosses her eyes, but she says nothing more as I walk over and sit beside her on her left side.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Why do you care?”

I lean closer. “Lucy…”

“No,” she says. “No, I am objectively not okay. Probably never will be again.”

“You will,” I say. “It’ll take some time.”

“What do you know?”

I take a deep, frustrated breath and look around the room. “Do you know where you are right now?” She shakes her head. “We all moved into this house when I was eight-years-old. Elijah and Lilah were five. Our grandparents took us in because three days prior to that both of our parents were killed in a car accident.”

Lucy’s eyes change. Apology burns inside of them, but she doesn’t say it.

“We were all together when it happened,” I continue. “When I came to there was fire everywhere and Lilah was screaming beside me. I managed to get her and Elijah out of the car but there was nothing I could do for my parents.”

Her lip trembles. “Dante, I…”

“Don’t think for a second that what you’re feeling is unique or special.” I stare at her with steady eyes. “What’s happened to you is awful, but it happens every day. People die. Families get torn apart. Life goes on.”

A tear falls down her cheek. “Am I supposed to find this comforting?”

“I did. Still do.”

“Yeah, well — at least, you had somebody.” She glances at the door. “I have nobody.”

“That’s not true.”

I grab her hand. She tries to pull away but I keep my grip on her.

“Whether you want me or not,” I say. “I will keep you locked up here until you realize that you do.”

She closes her eyes and more tears fall from her lashes. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“You heal,” I say. “You get stronger.”

“Will I forget?”

Her eyes open, begging me to say what she wants me to say.

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