Page 93 of The Thief
"Look at me," I say, tilting her chin up. "This war started long before you came home. Trace has been killing our people for months, picking us off one by one. You didn't cause this."
"But I made it worse. I gave him a target, a way to hurt Henry where it really matters."
"You gave us something to fight for. Something worth protecting."
She pulls away and sits up in bed with her knees drawn to her chest. The moonlight through the window makes her look fragile, breakable. But I know better. This woman survived eighteen months alone in Belfast, built a life from nothing but stubbornness and spite.
"I don't know if I can do this," she says quietly.
"Do what?"
"This life. This family. The violence, the constant danger, the knowledge that everyone I care about could be dead tomorrow."
"It's a lot to take in."
"It's too much." She runs her hands through her hair, frustrated. "In Belfast, the worst thing I had to worry about was drunk customers and grabby hands. Here, people are planning to murder my grandfather, torture me, and destroy everything this family's built."
"And we're planning to stop them."
"What if you can't? What if Trace wins?"
"He won't."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I won't let him. Because none of us will let him."
She laughs but there's no humor in it. "Just like that? Your confidence is supposed to make all my fears disappear?"
"My confidence is supposed to remind you that you're not alone anymore. That you've got an entire family willing to die to keep you safe."
"I don't want anyone to die for me."
"Too late for that. We're already committed. And not just for you. Trace has taken so fucking many people."
She's quiet for a long moment, staring out at the dark woods surrounding Henry's safe house. When she speaks, her voice is small, uncertain.
"Part of me wants to run," she admits. "Pack a bag and disappear before anyone else gets hurt because of me."
"And the other part?"
"The other part is terrified I'll never find anything this good again. That I'll spend the rest of my life regretting walking away from the only family I've ever had."
I understand the feeling. I’ve been running from connections my whole life, afraid of getting too attached to people who might disappear. It took Jer dying to make me realize that caring about people, even knowing you might lose them, is better than the alternative.
"What would it take?" I ask. "For you to stay?"
"A guarantee that no one else dies because of me."
"I can't give you that."
"I know."
"I can give you something else, though."
"What?"
"A promise that if you run, I'll chase you. To the ends of the earth if necessary."
