Page 173 of We Redeemed the Rain

Go figure, it didn’t help at all. I was just as oppressed when I finished as when I began. The only benefit from that exercise was that my story was now in a convenient, accessible spot. Maybe I was writing it for you, and I just didn’t know it at the time.

The past few weeks, I’ve added some things—a part two and part three.

As I was writing this letter, I remembered something you said to me in the hayloft all those years ago. I searched through my huge box ofjournals and found that old folded up one I left in the hayloft that night. I leafed through the pages to find where I had written about you for the very first time.

Here’s what you said to me, “Stories are meant to be told. Even if they’re hard.”

My story will be hard to read. I know you are deeply empathetic, so I hesitate to send this to you. If you read the first few pages and decide these words aren’t for you, it’s alright. Whether you read them or not, I want you to have my heart—in its totality.

And this black book is a big part of it.

If you read this and want to part ways, we will. Because more than anything, I want you to be happy. I want you to have every good thing. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.

I love you, Strings.

Thinking of you,

Scribbs

I refolded the letter, tears dripping from my cheeks.

My stomach rolled in my belly. Deep down, I knew whatever was in the journal would break me. Part of me didn’t want to even open it. I wanted to leave my love for him as it was—ignorant, accepting. But the other part of me knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, there were no words he could write that would quell the deep love I’d always had for him.

With magnetic pull, my hands picked up the notebook. I pressed his words to my chest, trying to calm the wild rhythm in my heart. This gesture was no small thing. Surely, the content on these pages were the fuel of his constant shame and fear.

Jackie popped her head in without knocking. “Sister! Get back out here!”

I kept my face turned away, the book tucked against my breast. “In a little bit, okay?”

“Okay. Food just got here.”

“Thanks.”

When the door shut, I slipped to my bed, taking the notebook with me. As soon as I was under my fluffy pink throw, Kelsey spoke through my closed door. “Bea, can I borrow your blue dress for my date tonight?”

I growled. Five minutes later, she left my room bummed it was too tight on her. Then Jackie called me again. Then Peter came to my door.

And Mom called me to ask about my interview.

And the group chat blew up about the upcoming birthday party for Hollie’s daughter.

I tried to deal with everyone as quickly as I could so they would leave me alone. The notebook screamed my name. I could hardly focus as everyone pestered me.

Finally, I sat down with the notebook and quickly flipped the pages with my thumb. So many…My eyes clung to words here and there as the pages flew by. For some reason, I was surprised to find the thick notebook almost completely full. It would take hours to read this…

I wished I was alone. Truly alone.

Then an idea hit me like a bolt of lightning.

The cabin.

I threw the blanket off my legs and dove for my phone on the dresser. I dialed Aunt Judith. Three rings later, she picked up.

“Bee Gees! Hey sweet girl!”

“Hey, Aunt Judith.”

“To what do I owe this amazing surprise?” She was always so sweet, I hated to use her when I hadn’t talked to her in months.

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