“What’s your problem?” Jeremiah asked him, his voice just barely even.
“Right now, this is my problem. You and her. Here.” For the first time since we’d arrived, Conrad looked me in the eyes. “Why do you want to help me? Why are you even here?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just like always, he could devastate me with a look, a word.
Patiently, he waited for me to say something, and when I didn’t, he did.
“I thought you never wanted to see me again. You hate me, remember?” His tone was sarcastic, belittling.
“I don’t hate you,” I said, and then I ran away. I pushed the sliding door open and stepped outside to the porch. I closed the door behind me and ran down the stairs, down to the beach.
I just needed to be on the beach. The beach would make me feel better. Not
