Page 79 of What Goes Around

“Isn’t it?” I cut in. “Because every time Apple falls apart, the solution seems to be me disappearing.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

I exhaled slowly and then I shifted.

Let my shoulders slacken.

Let my breath hitch just slightly.

Let my eyes shine.

“My whole childhood,” I said quietly, “I was taught that everything was my fault.”

He stiffened.

“I was eight years old,” I went on, my voice trembling just enough to sell it. “Eight when Apple was taken from that store. I wasn’t responsible for her. I was a child. But somehow I’ve worn that guilt my whole life anyway.”

His face went pale.

“I’m tired,” I whispered.

Tears slipped free.

He froze.

“Ashley—”

“I tried so hard,” I continued. “To not upset her. To not stand out. To not exist too loudly. And still… I’m the problem.”

I wiped my eyes slowly so he could see everything, but not the calculation underneath.

“Daddy,” I said softly. “I was just a little girl too.”

His face crumpled.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Of course you’re right.” He swallowed. “We were terrified. It was a miracle we even got her back.”

I wiped at my eyes slowly, letting him see the damage.

“A miracle,” I echoed. “Like when she was born early?”

Dad’s face went blank.

“Yes,” he stammered. “I mean—yes. She was… early. She’s always been… fragile.”

I tilted my head.

“And where does that leave me?”

He looked at me, startled.

“I’m your daughter too,” I said. “Aren’t I?”

His mouth parted.

“Of course you are, Ashley.”

I nodded once.