Page 94 of Forever in the Country

And somewhere along the way, I’d missed the fact that my sister had turned into a stunning young woman. Not just in appearance but in the way she carries herself, in the way she loves and continues spreading joy and light to everyone she meets. I’m both in awe and a little sad at the realization.

She’s not a little girl anymore, and if I want to continue to watch her thrive, I need to give her the closure she needs. The closure we both need.

“You think I wouldn’t have been here sooner? You said you needed space and I was trying to respect that—isn’t that what you wanted? Boundaries and shit?”

She snorts but it holds no humor. “Something like that. How did you even know they were here? This is my home too. Dammit, you should have told me!”

“I know, but I can’t change it and I don’t know if I would have anyway.”

She starts to protest but I just hold up my hand. “I set up alerts on the house, some accounts—had a buddy from the military do one of those search things so I’d be notified if anyone looked us up.”

“How long have you known?”

“Few weeks? Maybe a month? The alerts increased after that first article about Vetted Paws was released. When Tanner and I got home from that training, I went to see Cullen. He put me in touch with that PI that helped Hank.”

“Has this happened before?”

I shake my head, and we both stare out at the orchard. This whole thing had gotten out of hand, and right, wrong, or indifferent—this one was on me.

“I never…” I start but have to swallow down the lump in my throat. “I never wanted you to ever have to hear it.”

“And you think years of not knowing was any better? That I magically didn’t think about what I’d overheard that night?”

That night.

The one that had set everything in motion.

The one that had enabled me to move my six-year-old sister and me here to live with Gran and Pop.

The one that had shredded my heart into irreparable pieces.

I look back out over the rows of trees I’d wandered aimlessly as I let the past wash over me. Sinking onto the porch step, I motion for her to do the same.

“I need to know, Sorren. I need the closure that comes with knowing.” She swallows hard. “Confirming those people don’t deserve a place in my life.”

The naive part of me hoped that someday we’d have a happy reunion, but the people that showed up weren’t here for that.

“That night, when you were at the top of the stairs,”—I sigh, resigned—“it wasn’t the first time they’d talked about it. They wanted me to go with them. They were going to give you up, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

I’d heard her little feet in the hall upstairs. Vivian had been close to screeching and there was nothing I could do to stop her—to stop Marlee from hearing all the nasty and vile things our mother said about her.

It wasn’t fair—she’d only wanted to feel safe. To sleep without bad dreams and be loved the way a six-year-old should be loved.

Cherished.

I couldn’t stand how she’d cried herself to sleep, and I vowed to never let it happen again. I’d done my best—working anywhere I could under the table that would let her tag along. I’d gotten our father to buy the air mattress but I’d purchased the princess sheets on my own and surprised her.

It had been our secret, and she was able to come and go from my room whenever she wanted, just pulling the mattress out from under my bed if she needed me—if she needed to feel safe.

Marlee swipes away a tear that runs down her cheek, but she doesn’t speak.

“The first time they brought it up I thought they were kidding. We were fucking kids and that kind of shit wasn’t supposed to be real but…” I slam my eyelids shut against the onslaught of memories—Vivian’s insistence that I go with them, that we’d all be better off without Marlee, that we could live the life we had before she’d been born.

But I couldn’t remember a life without her, and I never wanted to. She sniffles and then her head is resting on my shoulder as she wraps her arms around mine. I rest my hand on hers where it grips my bicep.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, but I’m already shaking my head.

“I, uh…” I clear my throat and try again. “I talked to my football coach—said we were in trouble, and he helped me get everything moving. I remember the first time I ever heard Gran’s voice. I thought she sounded like an angel.”

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