"I had a lot of anger about my dad taking his own life. Of course, it was mixed with horrific sadness, too. But I was conflicted. It felt like he abandoned us. And I didn't understand how anyone could do that to their family. I could never do that. I could never leave the people I loved so unequipped for the future. Not if it was my choice."
"You're a stronger person, Haley. Maybe because of what happened."
"Maybe," she admitted. "I definitely grew up fast after that. I tried to tell myself he wasn't in pain anymore, and I should be happy about that."
"Except that you were still in pain," he said, meeting her gaze.
"I was. Along with Landon and my mother. I couldn't understand why my father wouldn't have been able to predict that my mother would fall apart, that Landon and I would suffer without him. Or maybe he did consider that and just didn't care."
"If he was in emotional pain, he wasn't thinking clearly."
"I have tried to accept that, and mostly I have. But sometimes my anger overwhelms me."
"I can't begin to tell you how to feel about what your father did. But I can say this; you're not just angry with him."
He was right. "My mother is also on the list," she conceded.
"But she's not at the top. You're in the number one spot. And that's the anger you need to let go of, Haley."
"I don't blame myself for what happened to them."
"But you do blame yourself for what happened to Landon."
"What happened to him is my fault. I wanted him to go to that school. I encouraged him to join the fraternity. I thought the connections would be valuable. I didn't know they would kill him."
"How could you know that?" he challenged. "And you weren't living on the campus. You weren't around him all the time. The information you got came through text messages and phone calls and a few visits a year, right?"
"Yes, but we were so close. I should have known."
"Do you think he'd want you to feel angry and guilty, to blame yourself?"
"No. He'd be pissed off."
"I get why you take it all on, Haley. How could you not? You became the caretaker in the family, not just of Landon, but of your mom."
"I failed with her, too."
"You didn't fail; she did. Why are you so hard on yourself?"
"Because look where I am. I didn't save any of them."
His gaze softened with compassion. "It wasn't your job to save them, especially not your parents. And Landon's death was at the hands of someone evil. You weren't there. You didn't know what was going on." He paused. "I know you can hear me, but I can see that you don't believe me. When I look at you, I don't see a failure; I see an incredibly determined, loving, fiercely loyal daughter and sister."
Despite her stubborn refusal to ever let anyone make her feel better, she had to admit his words were a soothing balm to her soul. Sometimes, she felt bruised and battered by her own rough edges. "Thank you for saying that. It does mean something to me." She paused, giving him a smile. "A man who listens and can cook—how are you still single?"
He grinned. "A beautiful woman who fights for truth and justice for her family—I could ask you the same question."
"Sometimes I can be too intense, too single-minded."
"Same," he said with a nod. "And then I'm not cooking or listening to someone else. Work has always been my anchor."
"After a childhood of flying back and forth between parents and cities. That makes sense."
"Yeah, I'm sure a psychologist could see a connection between that and how I live my life now."
"Oh, please, a psychologist would think you are incredibly normal. They would have a field day with me and all my craziness."
"Not craziness," he corrected. "You're a survivor, Haley. But you go beyond basic survival. You're trying to make the world a better place for everyone. That's what your reporting does. I have to confess, I'd almost forgotten there were people like you in the world."
