Page 210 of Cinder
She huffs out another tearful laugh. “I texted you… I didn’t mean to freak you out, I just needed the noise to stop for a while.”
The lake water shifts gently up toward her toes, and I nod at the pebbles she’s gathered near her thigh.
“You find a good one?”
“I was trying to.” A shaky breath leaves her. “Wanted to find you the perfect one.”
Something inside me folds in half.
“Pen…”
“I came out here because I thought I needed space,” she says, words tumbling freer now that they’ve started. “And then I got here and realized I didn’t actually want space from you.” Her throat works hard. “I just needed somewhere to put all the fear for a minute.”
The breeze catches strands of her hair again, pushing them across her cheek, and this time I reach out to gently sweep them off her face.
“I kept replaying everything,” she whispers. “And all I could think is that every time something magic happens, something breaks.”
“No. You don’t get to do this.” Her mouth opens, but I don’t give her space to give me another reason. “You don’t get to decide what I survive.”
“You ran into that building because I was in there.” Her voice shakes now. “Because I believed Stacey’s stupid story. It all lines up, Evan. I was the variable.”
Variable.
“That roof was compromised from the beginning.”
She shakes her head. “You almost—”
“I didn’t.”
“You could have.”
“And I would still go in,” I snap. “Every time.”
“You could’ve died, too.” She turns toward me fully now, eyes bright and wrecked and honest in a way that feels almost unbearable. “And the worst part is I knew, lying in that hospital room, that if I ever tried to leave you to keep you safe from me, it would destroy me anyway.”
Emotion swells low and fierce through me at the confession, hot enough it hurts. “Penny.”
“I love you so much,” she says brokenly. “I love you so much it feels impossible sometimes. You and Elle are something I can’t survive losing now, and that terrifies me more than the fire did.”
“The fire wasn’t you,” I say, lower but no less certain. “Stacey wasn’t you. Addiction wasn’t you. I went into the tower because I wanted to, because that’s what I do.”
“And I ruin things—that’s whatIdo. I’m the common denominator.”
I stare at her for a long second while the lake moves in front of us, then I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet.
Her brows pull together slightly as I open it and slide my thumb behind the folded cash until I find the coin tucked safely underneath.
“This?” I hold it up between us. “This is also a common denominator.”
The coin catches sunlight when I hold it out to place into her palm, and Penny goes completely still as she holds it.
“I’ve carried this since the day we met,” I tell her.
Her eyes snap to mine. “You what?”
“You told me your dad used to say, ‘Find my Penny, pick her up, all day long I’ll have good luck.’”
She stares down at the coin, and her eyes fill as I continue.
