Page 161 of Closer

He runs a hand over his face, looking older. “It’s my fault. I never should have taken you with me that night. I should have ignored her call.”

“And what? Let them die?”

“I almost lost you!”

“Dad…”

“I’m your father. I was supposed to protect you from that.”

All these years, he’s been blaming himself for what happened to me. For the blood on my hands.

Yet, it was me. He told me to stay in the car. But if I would have stayed in the car, she…

When I saw him wrap his hands around her throat, something inside me… snapped. The memory is still vivid, even after all these years. The fear in her eyes, the way her body went limp…

My father’s voice is barely above a whisper. “You were just a boy.”

“I stopped being a boy the moment I picked up that rock.”

He huffs, and we fall into silence.

For the first time, I feel like my dad and I understand each other. We never talked about it after it had happened. It was taboo. Something you don’t speak about, and it destroyed us.

The sound of hurried footsteps makes me look up. Gemma and Mary, followed by Elijah and Connor, rush toward us, their faces etched with worry.

“What happened? Is she okay?” Gemma’s voice trembles.

I open my mouth to respond, but the words refuse to come out. How do I even begin to explain this clusterfuck?

My father steps in. “She’s out of surgery. The doctors say she’s stable.”

Mary sags with relief, slumping against Connor. “Thank God.”

“What the hell happened?” Elijah asks.

“She found out. About her father.”

“Fuck,” Connor says.

“What?” Gemma asks. “What about her father?”

Chapter 48

Lilian

The whir of Mama’s sewing machine fills the room, a soothing rhythm that matches my heartbeat. I crouch beside her, mesmerized by the way two pieces of fabric become one under her skilled hands.

One day, I want to be like her.

Daddy’s voice thunders from below. “Rose! Get down here, now.”

Mama’s face drains of color. She stands, the chair scraping against hardwood. “Sweetie, I need you to do something for me.”

I nod, throat tight.

“We’re going to play our little game, okay? I need you to go hide in the closet like we practiced. And no matter what you hear, don’t come out until I come get you. Understand?”

“But Mommy—” My voice is small, childlike.

---