I start to tell her that I’m definitely going in to work. I’m not letting my personal life interfere with my job. But somehow, I can’t manage to make the words come. And the next thing I know, there’s a bright light in my eyes and the room smells like coffee.

The bright light, I realize, is from the sun streaming in through the wide-open curtains. And it’s not the entire house that smells like coffee. It’s the mug that is wedged in under my nose.

“Welcome back,” Cass says.

I stretch and yawn. Then I sit up and take the coffee. I sip it slowly and feel my body start to come back to life.

I hear a rattling in the next room and glance across the tiny house to see the louvered doors to the kitchen open and Siobhan emerge, her long legs revealed by running shorts and her wild mass of bright red curls partially hidden under a baseball cap.

“Oh,” I say. “Wow. I’m sorry. Last night. I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t,” Siobhan says. “Don’t worry. We were just hanging out and talking. Besides,” she adds with a bright smile. “I owe you one.”

“We both do,” Cass agrees. She turns back to Siobhan. “You out of here?”

“I thought I’d go for a jog and let you two talk. I’ll call you in an hour or so and see if you’re free for breakfast. If not, maybe we can grab a coffee this evening?”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

Siobhan leans in and kisses her cheek, then heads out.

I sit back against the couch feeling smug. “Well, guess I did do good telling you to unblock her number.”

Cass actually blushes a bit.

I laugh. “I really didn’t interrupt?”

“You seriously didn’t. We were really just watching television and talking. But one of the things we talked about was that we’re going to take it slow.”

“So there’s an it to be taken?”

“Maybe.” Now Cass is bright red, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve always liked Siobhan, even though she was a total bitch for breaking up with Cass. Because, of course, anyone who breaks up with my best friend is a total bitch by definition.

“Siobhan will keep.” Cass parks herself on the coffee table again, and I watch as she visibly pulls herself together. “Right now, the focus is on you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even want to think about it,” I admit. “But yeah, I suppose I should tell you.” And not just because I want her advice and comfort. The truth is that although I told Cass how Reed had abused me, I never told her all of it. She doesn’t know about Ethan’s treatment or my dad’s manipulations. She doesn’t know how it made me feel.

She’s my best friend and I’ve never told her any of that. And though I know those secrets haven’t come between us, I’m tired of hiding behind secrets and shadows, keeping parts of me hidden from the people I love.

And so I tell her. I tell her the past, and then I tell her the present. I start with, “Ethan was sick and my parents needed money for an experimental treatment in Central America.” And then, once she’s heard all of that—once she’s held my hands and hugged me close and battled back tears—I tell her the rest. I tell her about the photographs. And Reed’s threat to release them if Jackson doesn’t stop trying to block the movie.

I tell her how Jackson exploded once I told him about my dad’s role in the horror with Reed, and about how Jackson showed the photos to my dad and what fresh hell he’d set in motion.

“I told him I didn’t want to do that. I specifically told him I couldn’t deal with it. And then he went and did it anyway.”

Tears leak from my eyes and I brusquely wipe them away.

“I ran out,” I say. “And then I came here.” I shrug, because that’s the end of the story.

Cass is just looking at me, and she’s completely silent. Still and silent.

And since Cass is very rarely silent or still, I know that this isn’t just one of those relationship speed bumps. No, this is a giant wall. And if we’re going to get past it, Jackson and I will have to figure out a way to go over it, go under it, or knock that fucker down.

“So what should I do?” I ask when the silence has become unbearable.

She takes my hands. “I don’t know. He screwed up with your dad, I’ll give you that. But maybe he screwed up for the right reasons.”

“I trusted him with my secrets,” I say. “And to do that …” I trail off with a shudder.