Before I Let You Go(113)

But I’m glad I went, because I saw you two through the window and I saw the love you have for my daughter. It was written all over your faces, plain as day. That’s when I knew what I had to do.

At the moment, I’m not a good mother for Daisy—but I want to be, and I think I can be. I’m going to go to the police station this afternoon after I mail this and I’m going to plead guilty when my case goes to court. It’s the responsible thing to do—the honest thing. It’s hard, and somehow I have to find the courage to silence the voice inside that’s trying to convince me to keep running . . . but I’m going to find a way to do it.

I know that our lives have been one huge mess, Lex. I know that I have brought you so much pain over all these years. You have been a wonderful sister—a wonderful mother to me in so many ways, and I’m only sorry that I haven’t been able to repay you by being someone better than I have been.

That’s why I’m sending you this journal today. I want you to read this, and I want to talk to you about it—all of it. These truths are my apology to you and a token of my gratitude. You have been so faithful to me—so patient with me. The only thing I can do in return is show you how determined I am to do better. I hope these words are proof of that.

I live my life in the past, in my pain and my rage and my hate. But I have to take responsibility for every aspect of where I am now, and one way I can do that is to take a risk and expose the dark parts of my history. I promise you, Lexie. I’m finally ready to work toward healing and wholeness.

So—this is goodbye, but only for now. Please don’t bring Daisy to visit me in prison, and I promise you I won’t come to you when I get out—not until I’m standing on my own two feet in a home I can be proud of and with a job that I can use to support myself and to start to pay you back.

You should plan to have Daisy for a long time, Lexie—I’m so sorry for the burden. She is a very lucky girl, and I know you’ll take better care of her than I can. She will know you as her mother, and she will probably call you Mom—I’m okay with that, she needs a mom. I have no intention of disrupting the life that you and Sam make for her, not unless the day comes when you and she both want to incorporate me into it.

Please know that I appreciate you. Please know that I love you. Please know that your patient love for me all of these years has been the one thing that has kept me going, and now I know it will nurture my precious baby.

And Lexie—please always tell Daisy that even if I’m not there with her yet, I love her more than anything else in this world.

Love always,

Annie.





41


LEXIE


I roll onto my side and stare at Daisy, and I see Sam mirror my posture. Our gazes lock over the baby. Tears run down my cheeks.

We reach for each other, our hands meeting above Daisy’s belly. He wraps his fingers through mine and rests them gently over her—our hands entwined, just as our lives will be. Together, we will be a shield to protect her. Together, we will be a family to nurture her.

We talk in private whispers, and our conversation winds all over the place. I cry a lot as I talk about things that I haven’t dared to even think about in decades. I talk because I understand now that secrets can poison a person, and I talk because vulnerability can make a person strong, and I want to be strong. I talk about Dad. I talk about Winterton. I talk about Annie, and all of the times I shared with her that were good, and all of the times that she made me proud. And when I finally fall asleep, I’m thinking of those good times, and for the first time since her death, I have found a way to smile when I remember her.

I don’t fall asleep until nearly 3:00 a.m., so the movement outside my bedroom door at 4:30 a.m. is exceedingly unwelcome. I drag myself out of bed and open my door to find my mother and her bags on the other side. Her face is puffy, her eyes are beet red, but her jaw is stubbornly set. I stare at her in disbelief.

“Tell me you’re not catching that plane.”

“I have to.”

I silently lead the way down the stairs into the kitchen. Mom follows me, and when she joins me in the room, I close the door behind her—because I’m going to scream, and I don’t want to wake Sam or Daisy.

“How can you even consider—”

“I have to go back.” Mom says the words with force, and I laugh hysterically.

“Is there anything that he could do that would force you to realize how evil he is?”

Mom looks at me, stricken.

“How could you think I’d go back to him? I’m going back to the elders—there are other children there, other teenagers—he needs to be brought to justice. What he did to my Annie—” Mom’s voice wavers, and I realize that I’ve misinterpreted her decision—and now I’m stricken, too. We stare at each other across the table, and Mom leans in to stare right into my eyes.

“He will not have any control over my family ever again. I promise you, Lexie. I can’t make it right—but I can make sure the whole community knows what he did. I know there’s not much we can do to have him charged, but maybe once I tell them, the elders will ask him to leave.” I grimace, because we both know the elders in Winterton tend to protect their own. Mom shrugs at me. “But even if they don’t, I can make damned sure every woman and child in that town knows that he’s a dangerous, evil man.”