However, if I gave in to the desire, I knew I’d lose myself instead of trying to find myself without him.

Perhaps this friendship was unfair to him.

On that thought I pulled out of his hold and couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “You know, I know you have a lot going on, so we can do dinner some other time.”

Roane’s strong fingers gripped my chin, forcing my head up, my gaze to his. He looked somewhere between knowing and annoyed. He bent his head toward mine and I tensed, panic flaring at the thought of him kissing me.

Not just panic.

Stupid, stupid thrill rushed through me too.

I held my breath as his gorgeous lips neared mine.

But he halted, just a hairsbreadth from my mouth. His breath fanned across my lips, making my eyelashes flutter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Evie Starling.”

Just as abruptly as he’d captured my chin, Roane let me go and strode away. As I watched him jump into the van, my heart hammered hard in my chest.

Now why did his last words to me sound like more than a promise to meet me for dinner?

Shaken by everything left unsaid between us, I was thankful Viola had invited herself to a “sleepover.” I discovered she could be bright, bubbly, and vivacious, but there was a serious, sensitive side to her.

We’d been laughing together in my living room over a British soap they’d introduced me to. The television show was ludicrously depressing. Then, out of nowhere, as the credits rolled, Caro said, “Aunt Helena is going to be so mad at me when I return home.”

Viola immediately reached across to grip Caro’s hand in hers. “You don’t have to go back there, Caro. Mam and Dad will let you stay with us, and I’ll go get your things so you don’t have to see Helena.”

Caro’s lips trembled at the idea. “I—I couldn’t. The imposition . . .”

“It’s no imposition. Caro, you’re a good person who deserves to be happy. You know that, right?”

Viola’s words seemed to trigger something in Caro, and I knew as she suddenly burst out into heartbreaking sobs that Viola had seen something the rest of us hadn’t.

It wasn’t just that her aunt had dominated Caroline, taking control of every aspect of her life. She’d done it by making Caro believe she wasn’t worthy. That she wasn’t good. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as Viola made soft hushing sounds, pulling Caro into her arms. She pressed her cheek to Caro’s head and rocked her like a baby.

Wiping at my tears, I got up and crossed the living room to sit down beside them. I took Caro’s hand in mine and held back my wince when she squeezed it with all her worth.

“Let it out, Caro. Let it out,” Viola whispered.

Just like that our girls’ night took a turn I hadn’t expected.

And as Caro’s story fell from her lips in broken words, I was done taking it slow.

My plan had been to gradually get Caro to a point where she felt comfortable enough to leave Helena. But now I realized why Roane hated the woman so much. This girl was wounded in places no young woman should be. Only abuse could do that. I had known on some level that Helena’s control over Caro’s life was wrong. Yet the word “abuse” had never entered my mind. Until she shared her story.

Slaps across the face for any attitude considered disobedient.

Locked in her bedroom for a week when she was fifteen for daring to make a date with a boy. She had only a Bible and water to keep her company, her aunt bringing a tray of food once a day.

And every day, being told she was a bad seed, worthless, that she had the devil in her, and only Helena’s influence in her life kept him at bay.

Sick to my stomach, I sat in that room, listening to what sounded like something out of a gothic novel, and I realized Caro was so much stronger than she knew. Many people would have given in to such emotional and mental abuse, but deep down Caro knew her aunt was wrong.

We lapsed into silence, Caro’s head resting on Viola’s shoulder as the young girl hugged her close.

“I don’t want to push you, like Helena has bullied you,” I announced, “but I think you know you need to make a move and do it now. Move in here, with me, and then we’ll find you something more permanent later.”

Caro sat up slowly, her big dark eyes round with sorrow and fear. “I know she’s wrong . . . but there’s a part of me that’s scared she’s right.”

That was the impact of years of mental warfare, and it wouldn’t go away with a snap of anyone’s fingers.

“She’s wrong. But no one can make this decision for you. Only you can. I can promise we’ll all be here to help you through this.”