Page 242 of Irreversible

Together, we hammer, strike, and wail against it, turning dents into holes, then gaps large enough to catch glimpses of the dining room beyond. The air cools, but sweat drips down my back. Everly’s panting, charged with something beyond sheer effort.

It’s arelease.

This is what I hoped for. Because while I might be useless at expressing myself in words, I know how to read people—her,most of all. I’ve watched her fingers skim the worn white walls of this place, seen the way her palm lingers there, like she half expects an answer from the other side. Like the surface is both an enemy and a friend.

With a good chunk of the wall gone, I back up and let her decide whether she wants to continue without me. She’s built her own momentum now, and I watch her for a minute as she grunts and growls, gaining a second wind that drives the hammer in harder.

Fuck, that’s sexy.

There’s a case of water bottles sitting on a box in the dining room, so I go to retrieve one for each of us.

While I’m in there, she has a breakthrough.

Literally.

The sledgehammer busts through, followed by a huge chunk of plaster that falls to the floor near my feet, breaking into pieces. Now, there’s a gap about the size of a child.

Almost there.

She keeps at it. The hole becomes larger until it’s big enough to fit through. Cracks, wood splinters, and her growls of effort echo through the space. Any minute now, I expect to see a mane of hair covered in powdery white plaster emerge triumphantly from the hole and join me on the other side.

But those growls have turned into something more. Something heavier.

Her swings slow, her breaths hitch. The sledgehammer slips from her fingers, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. Dust hangs in the air like a cloud, and I look through the opening in the wall in time to see her crumble.

Shit.

I frown, peering through the jagged gap. “Bee?”

Her eyes swim with tears, spilling over to soak the edges of her hair. She stands there, shoulders trembling, her hands pressed to her knees, and she looks up at me like she’s never seen me before.

“Hey,” I whisper from the other side.

She shakes her head. Covers her mouth with her hand.

A sob breaks from her.

I step through the opening without hesitation, closing the distance between us.

Her knees buckle, and I catch her as she sinks into me, her sobs muffled against my chest. I hold her tightly, one arm around her shoulders, the other cradling her head as she finally lets it all out. I feel her chest rise and fall in sharp bursts as the emotions erupt—years of weight she’s carried breaking free like the wall itself.

It kills me to watch, but I know she’s not falling apart.

She’s freeing herself.

Everly looks up as I hold her, a choked sound slipping through her tears. “I didn’t think it would feel like this.”

“Like what?” I ask, brushing a strand of plaster-coated hair from her face.

“Like I can breathe again.” Her voice trembles, but there’s something in it—hope seeping through the cracks. More words pour out like a flood, years of silence and captivity spilling from her lips. “I used to sit there,” she chokes out, motioning towardthe wall. “Staring at it, dreaming about what was on the other side. Wishing I could just walk through it. But I couldn’t. Icouldn’t.”

I gather her closer, tucking her against my chest. She doesn’t collapse so much as let go, melting into me like she’s finally safe.

Her voice trembles. “And when you were there, when I knew you were in the next room…” She lets out a breathless laugh, shaky and raw. “I wanted toscream. I wanted to tear that whole damn place apart. But I didn’t. I just…sat there. I let him win, day after day, year after year.”

“No,” I say sharply, gripping her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You survived. You fought in ways he couldn’t see. You outlasted him, Everly. You’re standing here now because you’re stronger than he ever was.”

Nodding frantically, she clutches the back of my shirt, more laughter bursting from her lips. A smile breaks free like a hard-won victory. “I’ve held on to it all for so long.”