Losing Hope

Karen told you. I want to know what you remember. What do you remember, Sky?”
    She breaks eye contact with me, trying to think. When she comes up empty, she looks back up at me. “Nothing. The earliest memories I have are with Karen. The only thing I remember from before Karen was getting the bracelet, but that’s only because I still have it and the memory stuck with me. I wasn’t even sure who gave it to me.”
    I lower my lips to her forehead and kiss her, knowing the next words that come out of my mouth will be the words I know she doesn’t want to hear. As if she can see how much this is hurting me, she wraps her arms around my neck and climbs onto my lap, holding me tightly. I wrap my arms around her, not quite understanding how she can even find it in herself to want to comfort me right now.
    “Just say it,” she whispers. “Tell me what you’re wishing you didn’t have to tell me.”
    I lower my head to hers, squeezing my eyes shut. She thinks she wants to know the truth, but she doesn’t. If she could feel what it’s about to do to her, she wouldn’t want to know.
    “Just tell me, Holder.”
    I sigh, then pull away from her. “The day Les gave you that bracelet, you were crying. I remember every single detail like it happened yesterday. You were sitting in your yard against your house. Les and I sat with you for a long time, but you never stopped crying. After she gave you your bracelet she walked back to our house but I couldn’t. I felt bad leaving you there, because I thought you might be mad at your dad again. You were always crying because of him and it made me hate him. I don’t remember anything about the guy, other than I hated his guts for making you feel like you did. I was just a kid, so I never knew what to say to you when you cried. I think that day I said something like, ‘Don’t worry . . .’”’”
    “He won’t live forever,” she says, finishing my sentence. “I remember that day. Les giving me the bracelet and you saying he won’t live forever. Those are the two things I’ve remembered all this time. I just didn’t know it was you.”
    “Yeah, that’s what I said to you.” I take her face in my hands. “And then I did something I’ve regretted every single day of my life since.”
    “Holder,” she says, shaking her head. “You didn’t do anything. You just walked away.”
    I nod. “Exactly. I walked to my front yard even though I knew I should have sat back down in the grass beside you. I stood in my front yard and I watched you cry into your arms, when you should have been crying into mine. I just stood there . . . and I watched the car pull up to the curb. I watched the passenger window roll down and I heard someone call your name. I watched you look up at the car and wipe your eyes. You stood up and you dusted off your shorts, then you walked to the car. I watched you climb inside and I knew whatever was happening I shouldn’t have just been standing there. But all I did was watch, when I should have been with you. It never would have happened if I had stayed right there with you.”
    She takes a deep breath. “ What never would have happened?”
    I brush my thumbs over her cheekbones and look at her with as much calmness and reassurance as I can muster, because I know she’s about to need it.
    “They took you. Whoever was in that car, they took you from your dad, from me, from Les. You’ve been missing for thirteen years, Hope.”

Chapter Thirty-nine, Chapter Thirty-nine-and-a-half, Chapter Thirty-nine-and-three-quarters
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    She closes her eyes and lays her head on my shoulder. She tightens her grip around me, so I tighten mine in return. I wait. I wait for it to sink in. I wait for the tears. I wait for the heartbreak because I know for a fact it’s coming.
    We sit in silence for several minutes, but the tears never come. I begin to wonder if everything I just said to her is even registering. “Say something,” I beg.
    She doesn’t make a sound. She doesn’t even move. Her lack of reaction is starting to worry me, so I place my hand on the back of her head and lower my head closer to hers. “ Please . Say something.”
    She slowly lifts her face away from my shoulder and she looks at me with dry eyes. “You called me Hope. Don’t call me that. It’s not my name.”
    I didn’t even realize I did. “I’m sorry, Sky.”
    Her eyes grow cold and she slides off me, then stands up. “Don’t call me that, either,” she