Jeremy’s arm tightens around my waist. “No, you don’t.”
He’s right. I don’t want to be anywhere other than in Jeremy’s arms.
“I only have vague memories of my parents—my biological parents—since they died when I was so young. It wasn’t anything anyone could’ve done, just slick rain, the wrong tires, and a dangerous road.”
Starting here is good, I think. Painful. But a different kind of pain, more manageable.
Jeremy doesn’t comment on my time jump, only squeezes me to show he’s listening.
“The Blackshaws—Dayne really—took me into their hearts. And that’s all I knew. From then on, I was Savannah Blackshaw with an older brother, Dayne, and two sisters, Bridget and Angel. Dayne damned near tortured me by making me watch cartoons with him. I learned to cry on demand so someone would come a
