Free Unbroken by Jasmine Carolina

Christ.
    She turns away, folding her arms and leaning out the window. For a moment, I think she’s just gathering her thoughts, but I know otherwise. Her shoulders quake and I hear her gasp, cutting me to the core.
    I grab her hand and pull her toward me. Her head falls forward to rest on my shoulder and I rub her back soothingly.
    Her reaction to all this stuns me, although it really shouldn’t. She turns into stone the minute we pull into the parking lot of the cemetery, doesn’t say a thing unless someone says something to her first, and she always beats herself up later.
    “Bianca, look at me.” My tone is demanding, the only one I can take with her when she gets like this, because otherwise she’ll end up on a destructive path and ruin everything in her wake. She lifts her head marginally, so I place my hands on either side of her jaw and hold her in place. “Bianca, I love you. Yes, she’s missing everything. Yes, she’s dead. Yes, another woman came in and took her place. But you’re forgetting one crucial detail.” Her eyes light up with scores of questions. I give her a weak smile. “You went through all that, too. I had four years with Mom. You only got one. I remember her. You don’t. I am not the only one who lost her, Bianca. And her death is not. Your. Fault.” I kiss her on the forehead as she continues to sob. “There is nothing you could ever do that would make me hate you.”
    She closes her eyes as more tears stream down her face. She hiccups with every sob, and she finally opens her eyes to look at me after inhaling shakily.
    “But I’m the reason you lost Maddox.”
    So there it is. The giant elephant in the room.
    Her voice is so soft, I’m surprised I’m even able to hear her above the howling of the wind.
    I close my eyes, fighting off my own tears as they threaten to fall. I should have known that this would come between us, as hard as I’ve tried not to let it. She’s fourteen years old, we’re not too close in age. We don’t fight over stupid things like each other’s clothes and shoes and makeup. We don’t fight over boys. But this boy in particular ruined everything, and he doesn’t even give a shit.
    “Maddox Bradley is a Grade-A son of a bitch. He made his bed. He fucked up. He is the reason he’s no longer in my life. Not you. I loved him, I did. And part of me always will. But I will never forgive him for what he did to us.” I give her a smile. “I will always love you, Bianca. You didn’t take anything from me. You, Grace, and Mila, are the only ones keeping me afloat these days. You don’t ever have to worry about me hating you. I never could. Do I make myself clear?”
    She forces a smile and envelops me in a tight hug. “Crystal. I love you, Bree.”

SEVEN
     

    FROM THE OUTSIDE, NO ONE would ever be able to tell the horrors this house has held for me the past six years.
    White house, yellow shutters, large picture windows, an enormous front porch. To an innocent bystander, it probably looks like someone’s dream home. It looks like the home people write novels, write songs, make movies about. But for the past six years, it’s been the subject of all my nightmares.
    For six years, I’ve run away from this place, my brother and sister in tow, trying to escape the demon who resides within these four walls.
    We always run to the same place, to Mama Quinn’s. Nickayla was the first person to learn my secret, and she would take it to her grave if I asked her to. For years that place has been my safe haven, our safe haven. We learned there what our life could have been like had our mother survived her battle with cancer. We learned what a father’s love is supposed to look like.
    Every time shit hit the fan at home, we always knew we had another one to run to.
    And every time I decided it was time for us to go, it got harder and harder to convince myself I was doing the right thing for all of us.
    This morning, for instance, I had to drag Dalis and Cason