Page 74 of If We Say Goodbye

I take in a deep breath. “I see you.”

He wipes my cheeks again. “You’re safe with me.”

I nod.

“What color is my shirt?”

The fabric is still clenched in my fists. I loosen my grip. “Blue.”

“And where are we?”

“Your house.”

My breathing begins to slow. I raise my hands to his to lower them from my face.

The room comes into view as I step back. The house is dimly lit, and no one else is in sight. “Where’s Jordy and your mom?”

“They went to the store.”

I nod again, thankful they weren’t here to witness me like this. “Can I have some water?”

“Of course,” he says.

I slip off my shoes before following him toward the kitchen.

There’s a knock at the door. I pick up my pace, hiding behind the wall. “It’s probably my parents. I’m not ready to see them.”

Caleb hands me a glass of water. “I’ll take care of it.” He walks back to the door, opening it. “Hello, Mrs. Jacobs.”

“Have you seen Becca? She ran out of the house, and I don’t know where else to look,” she says, sniffling.

I peer out. Mom’s mascara is smudged.

“Yeah, she’s here, but she’s pretty upset.”

“Let me talk to her.” Mom tries to step in, but Caleb doesn’t let her through.

“She’s okay,” he says. “But I think she needs to calm down before she sees you.”

Mom scoffs. “I’m her mother. Are you telling me I can’t see my own daughter?”

He lowers his voice. “No, but I am saying that it’s not a good idea right now. You’re both upset. If you talk before you both have a chance to calm down, it’ll make things worse.”

Mom’s back grows rigid, and she crosses her arms. “I need to know what’s going on.”

“Has forcing her to talk ever worked before?”

Mom’s mouth drops open, and she stumbles over her words. “It’s—well, I—what else am I supposed to do?”

“Give her some time. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”

I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like this. I’ve been surrounded by people poking and prodding to get what they want. I don’t think they meant it, but it hurts to be forced to share things I don’t want to. I need to think about how I feel for a long time, how I want to say things, and who I want to tell. I can’t just blurt them out.

Caleb is patient, and I like that about him.

Mom rocks her jaw, eyes darting to the side. “Fine,” she says. “But I want her home before nine.”

Caleb says goodbye to Mom, and she leaves without putting up much more of a fight. He makes his way back to me, running a hand through his hair to move his bangs out of his face. A gentle smile tugs at his lips. “She’s gone.”