Chapter 6

Six Years Ago

I'm sitting in a wheelchair on the pier, feeding seagulls. I've been using a wheelchair for two years now after being hit by a car. I've also been in a sanatorium by the sea for six months.

There are all sorts of treatments and dirty places here. The doctors say the prognosis is good, and that I'll be able to walk again if I exercise my legs. I believe them, so I'm not worried. I also know that I was brought here at Tim's insistence. He paid for my treatment and rehabilitation. I don't know how to express how grateful I am to him.

First, Stevenson was almost jailed, then she was suspended from her post for a while. Everyone assumed that I ran away because I found out about my parents. But I ran away because I learned that Tim wanted to take me from the orphanage, and they wouldn't let him. It turned out, though, that the orphanage hadn't had a psychologist for a long time, and the headmistress had been writing letters to various authorities. You can't tell a child about the death of their parents without psychological preparation. So, they kept Stevenson, and I was glad.

She might be a little nervous, but she's a good person. She was telling Tim everything she'd said, but the truth was devastating to me, and I was glad I'd left the orphanage.

First, I spent a long time in the hospital. Then, they transferred me to a medical center with fancy equipment. They laid me on a long cot and wheeled me into a capsule, like in sci-fi movies. Then, they took me back, and I really liked it.

Then, the doctors decided that there was nothing more they could do to treat me. They just needed to wait for me to get up. But I was afraid of losing my balance and falling. They tried to help me stand with crutches, but I kept sliding back into the chair.

I probably don't want to walk. I don't want to go back to the orphanage. I don't want to wait anymore. It's nice here by the sea. I feed the seagulls, and a real cat comes and jumps on my lap. I pet her, and she purrs—not like my Lucky.

A kind nurse walks with me, and all the staff here are kind. No one yells or curses, and I like that.

The seagulls take flight timidly, and I see a figure walking toward me along the pier. My breath catches in my throat. It's Tim. I recognize him immediately, even though we haven't seen each other in a long time. I'm so happy to see him! But I can't show it. I know he won't like it. He feels guilty, and I don't want to make him feel worse. So I just say hello.

"Hello, Tim."

"Hello, Ava."

We're silent, but I feel good just knowing he's there, and he feels good gathering his courage.

"Why are you resisting, Ava?" Tim asks. My mouth drops open in surprise.

"What?"

"I spoke to your doctor. You can walk, but you don't want to. Why?"

"Because I love you. I'm afraid you'll stop thinking about me. I'd rather be disabled than feel useless."

"Because I'm scared."

"What are you afraid of?"

"That I won't succeed. If I do, I'll have to go back to the orphanage."

"Listen, girl," he said, squatting down in front of the chair. My heart sank at his exhausted expression. "I tried to take you, but it didn't work. They won't give you back to me. I'm a stranger to you. Our age difference isn't big enough. There are too many obstacles." I suddenly notice that my Tim Frost has truly grown up.

"How old are you now, Tim?" I ask quietly.

"Twenty-six. That's young, Ava. Too young for me to be your guardian."

"Why?"

"Because grown men often commit vile acts against little girls. No one would believe me. "Perhaps that's right, but if you only knew how infuriating it is to be so powerless . . ."

He rests his hands on the armrests of the chair and his forehead on my knees. I freeze. I desperately want to stroke his head. I can even imagine how coarse and unruly his hair is. But after what he said, I'm terrified of giving him any reason to think badly of me. He's trying so hard to keep his distance, and I have no right to interfere.

"I know..." I say barely audibly. Then, he looks up at me with a fiery gaze.

"Then help me, Ava." Help me stop feeling like a bastard who crippled the only person I truly loved in this world."

Did he really say that? Did he say that about me? Do I matter to him? My vision blurs as I imagine the pain and guilt this large, strange man must be feeling.

A wave of remorse washes over me. I'm a selfish person because until now, I've only thought of myself. I was always thinking about what would happen to me. Not for a single moment did I consider how the person I love must be feeling.

I spread my arms out to the sides as if about to take flight, lifted my chin, and quickly rose to my feet.

"I have no right to make you unhappy, Tim Frost."

He caught me when I collapsed, unaccustomed to it, as if struck down. I will never forget the happiness and gratitude that filled his gaze as he looked at me.