I found out later he had been arrested. An investigation was completed and it was even taken to court. I remember the day Mom came home and told me we were moving. Dad couldn’t leave his job and she refused to keep us in Austin, so she moved us. I don’t know if you know this, but they tried to work it out. Dad tried to find a job that could support us in our new town, but he never did. I think they eventually realized that it was easier being apart. Maybe they both blamed each other for what happened to me.

Now that I look back on all the therapy Mom had me undergo, I hate that she didn’t see the need for her to see a therapist, too. I always wondered if their marriage could have been saved if they had talked to someone about it. But then again, I’ve been in therapy for years and it obviously didn’t save me. I wish it did, and maybe it could have if I knew how to apply it. It did help me get through for several years, but it couldn’t save me from myself every time I had to close my eyes at night. And as much as Mom tried to save me, she couldn’t do it, either. I wasn’t looking to be saved.

I just wanted to be let go.

I found out several years later that Hope’s father never had to pay for what he did to me. For what he did to Hope. He was extremely manipulative and made it seem like I was blaming him for Hope’s disappearance and this was my way of getting back at him. The entire community rallied behind him. They couldn’t believe someone would accuse a man of such a cruel act after having his daughter ripped out from under him.

So he got away with it. He was free to do whatever he wanted and I felt like I was locked in hell for eternity.

Mom didn’t want you to find out what happened to me. She was afraid of what it would do to you. We both saw how much you blamed yourself for what happened to Hope and she didn’t want to see you hurt any more.

I didn’t want to see that, either.

Now comes the most difficult part of this letter. This is so hard for me to say, because I’ve held so much guilt over it. Every day that I saw the pain in your eyes, I knew that if I just confessed to you what I’m about to tell you, it would have relieved you of so much agony.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t find a way to tell you that Hope was alive. That she was okay and that Mom and I saw her once, about three years ago.

I was fourteen and we were eating at a restaurant, just Mom and me. I was taking a drink when I looked up and saw her walking through the door.

I turned to Mom and I know I had to be as pale as a ghost, because she reached across the table and grabbed my hand.

“Lesslie, what’s wrong, sweetie?”

I couldn’t talk. All I could do was stare at Hope. Mom turned around and the second she laid eyes on her, she knew it was her. We were both stunned silent.

The waitress led them to a table right next to ours. Mom and I were both just sitting there, staring at her. Hope glanced at me when she took her seat, then looked away like she didn’t even recognize me. It broke my heart that she didn’t recognize me. I think I started crying at that point. I was just so emotionally overwhelmed and I didn’t know what to do. I fingered the bracelet on my wrist and whispered her name, just to see if she would hear me and turn around again.

She didn’t hear me, but the woman who was with her did. She darted her head in our direction with sheer panic in her eyes. It confused me. It confused Mom.

The woman looked at Hope. “I think I left the stove on,” she said, standing up. “We need to leave.” Hope looked confused, but she stood up, too. Her mother ushered her toward the exit to the restaurant. That’s when Mom stood up and rushed after them. I did, too.

When we were all outside, the woman rushed Hope to the car, then immediately shut her door. Mom and I walked up behind her and as soon as the woman turned around and faced Mom, tears welled in her eyes.

“Please,” the woman begged. She didn’t say anything after that. Mom stared at her for a while without saying anything in return. I just stood there, trying to understand what was happening.

“Why did you take her?” Mom finally asked her.

The woman began to cry and she kept shaking her head. “Please,” she cried. “She can’t go back to him. Please don’t do that to her. Please, please, please.”

My mother nodded. She stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” Mom said. “Don’t worry.” Mom glanced at me and tears filled her eyes, then she glanced back to the woman. “I would do whatever it took to keep my daughter safe, too.”

The woman looked at Mom in confusion. I know she didn’t understand exactly just how much Mom knew, but she understood Mom’s honesty. She tilted her head and exhaled. “Thank you,” she said, backing away from us. “Thank you.” She opened her door and climbed into her car, then they drove away.

I don’t know where she lives. We never found out the woman’s name and we never found out the name Hope goes by now. I also stopped wearing the bracelet after that day because I knew in my heart that she didn’t need to be found. But I needed you to know, Holder. I just need you to know that she’s alive and she’s okay and you walking away from her that day was the best thing you could have done for her.

As far as me, well . . . I’m a lost cause. I’ve spent the last eight or so years existing in this constant nightmare and I’m just tired. The therapy and medication help numb the pain, but it’s the numbness I don’t want to endure, Holder. That’s why I plan to do what I need to do, and that’s what led to your reading this letter. I’m tired and exhausted and sick of living a life that I don’t really want to live anymore. I’m tired of pretending to be happy for you, because I’m not happy. Every single time I smile, I feel like I’m lying to you, but I don’t know how to live any other way. And I know when I do it, it’ll break your heart. I know it’ll devastate Mom and Dad. And I know that you’ll hate me.

But knowing all of that can’t change my mind. I’ve lost the ability to care anymore, so it’s hard to empathize with what you’ll experience after I’m gone. I don’t remember what it’s like to care enough about life that the thought of death could destroy me. So I need you to know that I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.


I’ve been let down by this life one too many times and quite frankly, I’m tired of losing hope.

I love you more than you know.

Les

P.S. I hope you never allow yourself to believe I went through with it because you failed me in some way. All those nights you held me and just let me cry . . . you have no idea how many times you’ve already saved me.

Chapter Forty-eight

I drop the notebook onto the floor.

And I cry.

Chapter Forty-nine

I walk into my mother’s office and she’s on the phone. She looks up as I shut her door behind me. I walk to her desk and pull the receiver from her ear and hang it up.

“You know?” I ask her. “You know about what that bastard did to Les?” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, just as she stands up and her own eyes fill with tears. “You know what he did to Hope? And you know that Hope is alive and that she’s fine? You know everything?”

My mother is shaking her head and fear is filling her eyes. She can’t tell if I’m mad or if I’ve lost it or if I’m about to flip out.

“Holder . . .” she says. “We couldn’t tell you. I knew what it would do to you if you knew something like that happened to your sister.”

I collapse into a chair, unable to stand up for another second. She walks around the desk and kneels in front of me. “I’m so sorry, Holder. Please don’t hate me. I’m so sorry.”

She’s crying, looking at me with so much regret and apology. I immediately find the strength to stand back up and I pull her up with me. “God, no,” I say to her, throwing my arms around her neck. “Mom, I’m so glad you know. I’m so relieved Les had you through all of that. And Hope?” I push her away from me and look her in the eyes. “She’s Sky, Mom. Hope is Sky and Sky is okay and I love her. I love her so much and I had no idea how to tell you because I was so scared you would recognize her.”

Her eyes grow wide and she backs away from me, falling back into her chair. “Your girlfriend? Your girlfriend is Hope?”

I nod, knowing none of this is making any sense to her. “Remember when I met Sky at the store a few months ago? I recognized her. I thought she was Hope, but then I thought maybe she wasn’t. Then I fucking fell in love with her, Mom. I can’t even begin to tell you the shit we’ve been through this week.” I’m talking faster than she can probably comprehend. I sit in the chair across from her and pull it closer to her, then lean forward and take her by the hands. “She’s okay. I’m okay. I’m more than okay. And I know you did your best for Les, Mom. I hope you know that, too. You did everything you could, but sometimes even all the love in the world from mothers and brothers isn’t enough to help pull someone out of their nightmare. We just need to accept that things are what they are, and all the guilt and regret in the world can’t change that.”

She begins to sob. I wrap my arms around her and I hold her.

Chapter Forty-nine-and-a-half

Sky and I took the last two days of the week off school. We figured we already missed three days, what’s two more? Besides, Karen wanted to keep a close eye on Sky all week. She’s concerned about how everything is affecting her.

I agreed to give Sky space for a few days, but what Karen doesn’t realize is that Sky’s window still sees regular traffic in the middle of the night. All from me.

I’ve spent the last few days in deep discussions with Mom. She wanted to know everything I knew about Les and Hope and of course she wanted to know what happened last weekend in Austin. Then she wanted to know all about my relationship with Sky, so I brought her up to date. Then she said she wanted to meet her.

So here we are. Sky just walked through the front door and my mom has her arms around her. She started crying almost immediately, which in turn made Sky tear up a little. Now they’re standing in the foyer and my mother won’t let go of her.

“I don’t want to interrupt this homecoming,” I say. “But if you don’t let her go, Mom, you might scare her away.”

My mother laughs and sniffles, pulling away from Sky. “You’re so beautiful,” she says, smiling at Sky. She turns to me. “She’s beautiful, Holder.”

I shrug. “Yeah, she’s okay.”

Sky laughs and hits me on the arm. “Remember? The insults are only funny in text form.”

I grab her and pull her to me. “You’re not beautiful, Sky,” I whisper in her ear. “You’re incredible.”

She wraps her arms around me in return. “You’re not so bad, yourself,” she says.

My mother takes her by the hand and pulls her away from me and into the living room, then she begins to bombard her with questions. I appreciate it, though, because she doesn’t ask her questions about her situation or her past. She just asks normal questions about what she wants to major in when she goes to college and where she’s planning to go to college. I leave them both in the living room to continue their conversation while I walk to the garage and grab a few boxes. Mom and I have talked about clearing out Les’s room before. Now that I have Sky here, I think I’ll actually be able to do it.



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