Break Through Read Free Page B

of the situation. But I never said any of that out loud. In fact, I never spoke about Eve at all. It was too painful. Instead, I accepted it, smiled and nodded, like I was doing now.
    “Thanks,” I spoke in a hushed tone, willing away the painful memories. This was precisely the reason I never wanted to do this damn article. The kidnapping was a part of my past that I wanted to bury in the ground for good. Maybe grow a plant or two over the top of it so no one would suspect anything was down there. I didn’t want to take a shovel and dig it up, exposing it for the world to see. So why was I doing that now? Inwardly I groaned, wishing I could put a stop to this entire thing. But then my gaze landed on the kitchen window, at Mom’s face staring through the glass. My insides twisted, and I dropped my head.
    “What kind of flowers are those?” Carter’s voice drew me back.
    I lifted my chin, following the invisible line drawn from his index finger. “Peonies.” My feet moved as if the flowers were drawing me forward. When I reached them I ran the tips of my fingers over one of the silky petals. This was where I felt safe, comfortable. I sometimes wished I could grow a tower of plants, crawl inside of them and never leave. Or I could be like Jack and the Beanstalk and climb one right up into the clouds.
    A clicking noise caught my attention. My head bounced up. Carter had the camera pointed at me, the lens resembling a giant eye. I blinked.
    “Did you plant all these?” He didn’t pull the camera from his face, and he reminded me of a cyclops as his lips moved under the round lens.
    “ Yes.” I glanced back down at them, touching the stems. My hair slipped over my shoulder. Another click.
    “You definitely have a green thumb.”
    My mom said that all the time, and I always thought it was a funny expression. But she was right. I half expected to see my thumb change color at some point. As I stared at my hands, Carter fired off a few more clicks.
    “Mi ne are not green,” Carter continued. “They are white and calloused from always holding this camera.” He let out a gruff chuckle.
    Releasing the flower , I studied him. The camera clicked again, and then he removed it from his face.
    “I am notorious for killing flowers.” He smiled. “Maybe you could teach me what I’m doing wrong.”
    “Yeah. Maybe,” I breathed, knowing they were flippant words with no meaning. After today I’d never see Carter again, much less teach him about flowers. A slight breeze kicked up and sent my hair flying. I didn’t bother batting it out of my face the way Mom always did. I let it swirl around me, catching on my eyelashes. I heard the camera going off as I stood in the middle of the yard with my hair billowing around my face.
    “Stay right there,” Carter’s tone was breathless. “You’re perfect.”
    His wording caught me off guard. I was perfect? Or my pose was perfect? Dammit, what did he mean by that? My head spun. No one had ever called me perfect before. When the breeze quieted, my hair settled, and finally I brushed it away from my face.
    “Does it take your mind off of everything?” he asked.
    “What?”
    “Gardening. Does it help you forget?”
    “Yeah. It does.” Click. I averted my eyes from him, instead staring across the yard. It was unsettling to talk to a camera. “When I first escaped I spent all my time outside. I still spend as much time as I can out here, but sometimes I am forced to go indoors.” A light laugh escaped through my lips. “Out here with the plants and flowers I feel free. I feel alive.” I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. This time I barely heard the click of the camera. “He kept me inside all the time.” I had no idea why I was sharing all of this with Carter. I hadn’t even been this open with the reporter, and he had been fishing for responses. But something about Carter’s calm demeanor made it seem okay to talk.
    “The man who kidnapped you?” His voice was