Page 91 of The Dirty Saint

I glare at my cousin.

“Of course he did. The kid’s got a sense of humor.”

“Too badyoudon’t.”

I roll my eyes at her, and then we smile at each other.

“I missed this,” Ezra says as the two of us sit on the couch, Noah asleep in his room.

“Me too,” I say, taking a sip of my wine.

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t think I’d have the opportunity again.”

I set my glass down.

“What happened, Ez?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, what happened at the end? The only thing you’ve shared was that Joey was murdered. But I know you, and I know when you’re holding back.”

“I’m not holding anything back.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No,” Ezra gets up from her seat, “I’m not.”

I shake my head. “You’re pushing me away.”

My cousin rolls her eyes.

“Stoptrying to pressure me into speaking about one of the scariest moments of my life. Just because you went through something similar doesn’t mean you get to dictate how I choose to heal.”

My cousin is stubborn. Always has been. She gets set in her ways and then won’t hear any differently.

“I’m just trying to help you, Ezra,” I say.

“Well, I don’t need yourhelp,” she snaps. “Because I’m doing just fine.”

“Is that why you’ve started cutting yourself again? Because you’re ‘fine?’”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Because I know you,” I answer. “You might not like it, but it’s the truth. So believe me,please, when I tell you that I am not doing any of this to hurt you. I’m doing this because I want you to take your power back, and if you keep allowing those men to steal your voice, then you’re always going to come up empty. And Ezra Evaline Maya—at least the version that I knew— wouldn’t stand for that.”

“Well, the Ezra that you knew doesn’t exist anymore. And if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be having this conversation right now.”

“You mean you don’t want to have it all,” I finish.

“Why would I,” Ezra asks. “Why would I want to remember Lana being raped at the same time she was being suffocated? Why would I want to hear her cry out for her son, her last words ever, and then watch as one of those sick fucks defiled her dead body? Or why would I want to see the man I loved get murdered right in front of my eyes, all the while I was screaming for them to kill me instead?”

Ezra looks at me as the realization of her words reaches her ears.

“Why would I,” she repeats.

I grab her hands and hold them close to my chest. “Because you can’t move on if you don’t.”

Her voice breaks. “It’s all I can see when I open my eyes. And it’s all I can hear in the silence. I wish this never happened to me. And I hate that I wish it could have happened to someone else.No oneshould ever experience that type of fear.

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