THE GIFT

Chapter 8 The chase

I didn’t stop running until my lungs burned.

Past our building. Past the corner store. Past the bus stop where Lila and I used to wait every morning.

I ended up at the river. The same place we scattered her ashes.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Stop!”

Elias. Behind me. He wasn’t even out of breath.

“Please just stop running.”

I turned on him. “Don’t tell me what to do! You don’t get to do that anymore!”

He held his hands up. Like I was the one with a weapon.

“I know,” he said. “I know I don’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” I laughed. It came out broken. “You killed her, Elias. You killed my sister and then you moved in next door and made me tea?”

“Yes.” The word hit me like a slap.

“I killed her. And I ran. And I’ve hated myself every day since.”

He took a step closer. I took one back.

“Let me explain,” he said. “Please. Five minutes. Then you can call the cops. You can scream. You can hate me forever. Just five minutes.”

I was shaking. Cold.

“Talk.”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“It was three years ago. November 14th. I was 22. Stupid. Drunk. I was driving home from a bar and I saw a car. It looked like my ex’s. She’d been texting me, threatening me. I was angry. I sped up to catch her.

I swerved. I didn’t see the other car until it was too late.”

His voice cracked.

“I got out. I saw her. Lila. She was... she was still breathing. She asked me for her sister.

And I panicked. I ran. I told myself I’d go back. I told myself I’d call.

By the time I got the courage, the cops were already saying it was a hit and run. And then I saw you at the funeral.

And I realized I killed your sister. And that they were blaming you.”

Tears were running down my face. I didn’t even feel them.

“So you decided to what? Babysit me? Atone?”

“I decided to keep you safe,” he said fiercely. “From your dad. From the town. From me.

I took the house across to you because I needed to know you were okay.

I learned your coffee order. I learned you cry to her song. I learned you fold paper stars when you’re anxious.

And every day I woke up thinking today’s the day I tell you. And every day I was too much of a coward.”

Silence. Just the river.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he said. “I’m asking you to let me turn myself in. With you. Right now.

Because you deserve the truth. And you deserve to not carry this anymore.”

He pulled out his phone. Held it out to me.

“Call them,” he said. “I’ll tell them everything.”

I looked at the phone. Then at him.

The man who ruined my life.

The man who saved my life.

_My finger hovered over 911, and I didn’t know if I was calling to arrest him or to save him._