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I still saw her sometimes—the girl I used to be. She lived behind a locked door in my mind. The door that protected the last secret part of me. The final bastion I had that no one else could infiltrate or overcome. It was locked so securely that no one but me could force or tease it open.
I liked to think that someday I’d run into her
and see in her face that, in spite of what I’ve been through, the girl I used to be is all innocence and light. That when she smiles, it’s beautiful and not broken.
“That remains to be seen.” “Enigmatic.”
“Connor—Mr. Parks, our sister disappeared ten years ago. She’s never been found.”
If the world had had eyes since the moment of its creation and witnessed all manner of natural and man-made violence and destruction, its eyes might never match the despair Connor had seen in Claire Fletcher’s eyes.
Indulging myself would seal my complicity; I would be taking a step through the door I thought I would rather die before entering. I would really be Lynn. I would have taken candy from his hands, from the devil’s own hands. Sold my infinitesimal soul to him, handing it over in tatters and shards.
less effulgent part of the city where the streets were unkempt and usually deserted during daylight
“It’s not so much the press as the unthinking masses who take everything they read to heart.”
My experience had overwhelmed me, it had become the sum of my parts, who I was, and I hadn’t deemed myself fit to return to those who loved me.
