Chapter 18: The Bracelet at Sixteen

Cora's POV

Levi took a step back toward the car.

"I'll give you room."

"Stay," I said.

He stopped and looked at me.

Then he nodded and stayed where he was, ten feet off, with his hands in his pockets.

Bree looked at him and at the empty hole in the grass.

"You pulled the stone."

"It was a lie in granite," I said. "Tell me the rest."

She sat down on the edge of the path in her good black coat.

"I was sixteen. I was looking in Dad's coffee tin for a washer to fix my bike chain."

"A washer."

"I know." She laughed, and it came out wrong.

"At the bottom there was a bag with a baby bracelet in it. HARTWELL, BABY GIRL. I thought it was somebody's joke."

"And then?"

"I took it to Mom."

I didn't say anything.

"She was at the kitchen table doing her nails. She read it, and she put the polish down."

Bree picked at the gravel.

"She said you were a gift from God and I wasn't to ruin the gift."

"Is that all?"

"She said if you found out you'd leave, and she'd lose her mind."

Bree's mouth twisted.

"She said I'd be the one who had to look after her."

"So you kept it for nine years."

"I kept it for nine years."

I waited.

"I'm not going to pretend it was only fear," Bree said. "I liked being the one who was loved."

"Bree."

"You came in the door with your report cards, and Mom waited for you to apologize for something."

She swallowed.

"I knew why. I never told you, and I liked that I got to be warm and you didn't."

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