This is an important conversation we’re having, one I won’t be able to coax out of her again. “Grace,” I say, trying to choose my words carefully. “When I came here, I had no friends and didn’t know how to make any. Finding you was like finding—I don’t know. A star. A sun. You had your own orbit, but it wasn’t like I was sucked in—it was like I was lucky to be so close to you.”
She tries to cut in, but I wave my finger in her face. “You had so much life. I’d never been near anyone with as much vibrancy and energy as you. Your sleepwalking seemed so minor at the time. I learned to be everything for you—your secret-keeper, your caretaker, your friend.”
She crosses her arms. “And in return I gave you bruises and burns.”