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I knew in that moment that I could do hard things.

After all, I loved Reed Madsen.

I loved him with every ventricle and chamber of my broken-down, barely beating heart.

And now I was walking away.

From all of them.

It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. My years of abuse and torment paled in comparison to this feeling. This heart-crushing feeling of voluntarily leaving behind something so pure. These people were my family. They were my heart.

Whitney pulled back and cupped my cheeks. “I’ll talk to her,” she promised, stroking my face. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.”

My lips trembled. “You know the truth, right?”

“I know that forgiveness, growth, and understanding can be found in even the darkest circumstances. I know that love has power. Power to break and ruin, and power to rebuild.” She wiped away a tear. “I know that what is meant to be, will be. You can’t rush it. You can’t fake it. You just need to wait for the storm to pass and pick up the pieces when the time is right.”

“We never meant to hurt anybody,” I said softly.

“I know that, too. Trust me, I’ve been there. I’ve made awful choices, and those choices had consequences. There is no right or wrong here. There is only what is and what will be. You’ll be stronger for it, Halley. So will Tara. You’re both young. It’s never too late to forgive and recover.”

I hugged her again, inhaling her sugary scent and her words of solace. “You don’t hate him?”

That mattered.

That matters most.

“I don’t hate him,” she said. “I’m disappointed it turned out like this, but that’s life. And life is too short to hate the people we care about. Tara will realize that soon enough.”

I allowed her wisdom to spread through me, offering a semblance of relief amid the pain. All I could do was hope that all the fractures I’d set in motion could be sealed in my absence. Love would reign. Everything would be okay.

With time.

As I pulled away, the front door cracked open and a final farewell greeted me in the shape of four paws and a swishing tail. I broke down again, collapsing to my knees as Ladybug barreled toward me and sank into my arms.

I held her extra close, stroking her fur, releasing my tears into her golden coat. I thanked her for being my friend. My steadfast companion. A constant reminder that unconditional love could be found in many forms. “Be a good girl, Ladybug,” I said, drenching her fur with wetness. “Take care of Tara and Whitney.” My heart spasmed, bled, splintered. “Take care of Reed.”

I kissed the top of her head and scratched between her ears.

Then I told her goodbye.

As I twisted around with a strangled sob, I glanced behind me one last time. Tara and Whitney waved me off while Ladybug sat in the middle of the driveway, her paws dancing up and down like she wanted to run to me but knew she couldn’t. She whined, a squeaky little sound that shot beams of devastation to my heart.

She knew.

She knew I wasn’t coming back.

And in the back of my mind, I knew, too—this would be the last time I’d ever see her.

As we rolled down the familiar neighborhood road, and the Stephens’ home became smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, a feeling came over me.

I shot up in my seat, my chest squeezing, heart pounding. “Can we make a quick stop?”

Scotty turned the radio dial down and sent me a brief glance. “Sure. Where to?”

“Just a few streets over.”

I guided him onto Bradshaw Avenue. Towering, branchy trees lined the old street as little ranch houses came into view. Gravel driveways, withered light posts, a child riding a pink plastic trike. Familiarity burned holes in my bones as I drank in the remnants of my childhood.