Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

I opened my mouth to tell her, but to all of our surprise, Darragh beat her to it. “Hartwell, Delaware.”

“How do you know that?” Dad was obviously put out by this information.

Darragh glowered at him. “You think I was going to take your word for it that she was okay? I love you, Dad, I respect you, you know it … but she’s my baby sister. You should have known I needed to know for myself that she was okay.” He turned to me. “I hired a PI. Found you in Hartwell, knew you were okay, and left it at that.”

I was shocked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I was afraid if I told Dad I knew where you were that he’d tell you and you’d up and move.”

Ashamed that he’d think that, I shook my head. “I wouldn’t have done that, Darragh. Hartwell started out as a hiding place, but it became more than that. It’s my home.”

“This is your home.” Davina’s hazel eyes flickered with fire as she turned to our big brother. “You didn’t think maybe I’d want to know where she was?”

“You would have gone there.”

“Of course I would have.” She turned to me. “I would have dragged your ass back home!”

“Davina,” my dad warned.

“Stop protecting her,” she hissed. “She’s a grown woman, and she can speak for herself.”

“Davi,” I whispered in sorrow.

“Don’t call me that.”

That was like a punch to the gut.

Davi was my nickname for her. I was the only one who called her that.

“Christ, Davina,” Darragh said. “We said we wouldn’t do this to her.”

“We should have done this a long time ago.”

I needed them to understand something. “I couldn’t come home.”

“Of course you could have.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you could have.”

“No, I couldn’t!” I yelled, losing my patience.

Davina sat back in her chair, her eyes wide.

I grimaced. “I’m sorry … I … you don’t know …” Not even my dad knew, which made how much he’d protected and cared for me over the years even more amazing.

But now that Mom wasn’t here, now that my parents had separated, I could explain everything. I realized it was the real reason I had felt strong enough to come home now. It took me to get to this moment, to face my family, to truly understand.

I knew it didn’t erase the years of cowardice, of hiding, but maybe it would answer some of their questions.

So, on a quiet Sunday afternoon in my childhood home, I told my family my story. It was painful, it was difficult, and I was ashamed to admit all of it, to tell them everything, but I did it because I wanted them back. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted them back until I saw them again. And if I had to lay myself bare to get them back, I would.

I no longer needed to protect my mother.

When I was finished, Davina was wiping at silent tears, Darragh’s face was pale and haggard, and my dad … I couldn’t look at my dad.

He pushed his chair back from the table and stormed out of the kitchen.