Page 36 of Through the Water

At youth gatherings, I sat in the back, silently admiring the streaks of white blonde in her dark hair.Later, once we’d been properly introduced, she’d informed me they were highlights and not something she’d been born with—yet I’d never even been allowed to cut my hair, much less alter the color.

Looking back, I couldn’t help but feel that by befriending her, I was at least partially responsible for what happened next. If I’d never overcome my fear of speaking to her, Morgan would have been just another nameless face in the crowd.

Safe.

Instead, I’d led her into the monster’s lair, never imagining Tristan would take an interest in a sixteen year-old girl.

Clearly, I’d underestimated him.

Her family eagerly accepted Tristan’s proposal and moved into the gated community during their two-year courtship, oblivious to the trap that had been set. On her eighteenth birthday, Tristan put a ring on Morgan’s finger and an end to her traveling anywhere without an escort.

The white highlights gradually faded away, but Morgan had never lost her spark, which had only made me admire her more. Yet, as much as I’d tried over the last three years, I couldn’t bring myself to call her my stepmother. She was, after all, only a couple of years older than me.

My best friend.

The one person who knew me better than anyone else.

An idea began to take root. I’d been going about this all wrong—putting enormous amounts of pressure on my body to speed up the healing process.But the answer had been right in front of me all along. If there was one person who could tell me with certainty what I’d been doing before the accident, it was Morgan.

We never kept secrets from each other.

After Tsega radioed down to the front desk, I kept my eyes on the door, restlessly bouncing the soles of my house shoes against the wheelchair footrests. Somehow, despite the current of nervous energy flooding my body, she managed to tame my braid.

I was so caught up in witnessing Morgan’s arrival that when Tsega offered me a notebook and pen, I handed it back to her in confusion.

“No,” she chuckled. “For you… to write down what you want to say.”

Oh. Right.

In my excitement, I’d forgotten I was terrible at Charades. Although, in my defense, trying to act out the phrase “Noah’s Ark” in front of sixty hyperactive youth members would have been daunting for anyone.

The breath caught in my throat when the door opened and Morgan appeared. She pulled me into her arms, squeezing to the point of pain, but I didn’t care.

I’d missed her.

I hadn’t realized just how much until I was enveloped in the comforting scent of her raspberry and vanilla body spray.

“I’m sorry, Ari,” she rasped before abruptly pulling back. “Am I hurting you?”

I shook my head, unable to wipe the grin from my face.

“Good. I’ve—” Morgan awkwardly cleared her throat and took a step back, letting her hands drop to her sides. “We’ve been praying so hard for your recovery. The church, I mean. We—”

Tsega offered her a chair, and she fell silent again, dropping onto it with a frustrated exhale. “Your father—he’s just been sick over this. Well, we all have… really.”

The thoughtful look returned to Tsega’s face. “Did Ginny have you do the family training when you got here?”

“I watched the video, and we discussed the basics. Is that what you’re asking?”

Sensing where Tsega was leading with her questioning, I began nodding, pleased that she and I were on the same page.

“Yep, and since you’ve been informed of the protocol, I can actually step out and let you two catch up in private,” she said with another strange expression that made deciphering her thoughts virtually impossible.

The woman was quite the enigma.

Morgan’s smile slipped as soon as Tsega left the room. She grasped the arms of the wheelchair, yanking me until our knees butted together.

“What happened to you?” she hissed, her mouth twisting into a brief grimace as she leaned forward.

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