Page 20 of The Lies We Believe

“Well.” I huffed out an exasperated breath. “The last time I saw or spoke to him was the night I gave him the key.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Like I’m going crazy, if I’m honest.”

“That’s understandable. Tell me why.”

I cleared my throat as I tried to think of a way to bring order to the feelings that were running rampant inside me without sounding like I was as close to the edge as I was. “He’s locked himself in that room since the moment I closed the door.”

“Go on.”

“I’m really worried about him and how he’s coping with everything. It must be a complete mindfuck going from the life he was living to being here. I’m concerned he’s not eating or drinking, but if I spend another night sleeping on the floor outside his room, I’m afraid my body will hate me more than it already does. Who knew wooden floors were so unforgiving?” I chuckled uneasily and ran my hand over my face, feeling the coarse stubble that was closer to resembling a full beard.

“Who knew, indeed?” Joelle hummed under her breath. I could hear the tapping of keys before she came back to me. “Do you understand what you’ve given River?”

“Uh, no?”

“You’ve given him something he has probably never had before in his life—control. He was in foster care since he was a baby, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then he ran away when he was twelve?” I made an affirmative noise in the back of my throat. “So it’s safe to assume that he’s never had autonomy over his body or a space that is his and his alone.”

“Sure. He alluded to that much. When we were at Mrs. Wilkinson’s, we roomed with three or four other boys. But he’s shutting me out, and all I want to do is help him.”

“Try not to look at it as River shutting you out, because that’s as far from the truth as you can get. You’ve pulled him from the only life he’s ever known and thrust him into a completely new space with someone he doesn’t know?—”

“He knows me, though.” My fingers dug into my thigh as I became more agitated.

“No, Jacob. He knew you. He doesn’t know you now. Yes, you have history, but he doesn’t know the man you have become. He probably feels like the only reason he is there is to help with the case, but once he’s served that purpose, he’ll be on his own again. To be frank, he’s likely scared and uncertain about everything that’s going on, not considering the trauma he’s dealing with.”

“What?! No! That’s so far from the truth.”

“Does he know that’s how you feel though?”

“I mean. Well, yes? I think?”

“Jacob, unless you have told him that staying with you isn’t a conditional offer, then he will assume it is. So while it mightfrustrate you that he has, as you put it, ‘locked himself away,’ that’s not how he sees it. River is merely setting boundaries in place to protect himself. He’s also probably never felt safer than he does behind that locked door. You have no idea what he has endured.”

“But I’ve?—”

“You might have seen reports from the doctor who treated him for a concussion, but you don’t know, not really. The sooner you accept that, the better. River is safe in that room. His body is his own for quite possibly the first time in his life. He’s able to decide when and if he wants to eat and drink. It’s highly likely from what you’ve said that his abusers managed his intake or used it as a form of punishment and control.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“All you can do right now is be there to support him however he needs. But hovering outside his door or constantly knocking on it won’t help anyone and will only drive a wedge between you.” I gasped and winced. “Mmmm, I thought as much.” Joelle chuckled.

“I just want to help him more than anything.”

“More than the case?”

“I, umm…” I sighed and shook my head. I hadn’t really thought about putting one above the other. Not consciously, anyway.

“You’re in a tough position here, Jacob, stuck between your responsibility and the guilt you feel toward River for living a life he could only dream of.”

“I…yeah. How did you know?”

“I’ve known you a long time, Jacob. You take everything to heart. Misplaced guilt is a big thing you’ve spent years trying to come to terms with. It’s not your fault what happened to him. You were just a child. It was out of your control—just like with what happened to your family or the Hendrix’s son. None of itwas your fault. Nothing you could do or say would change the outcome of what happened.”

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