"I loved him," Max said, looking dazed and out of place.

She'd explained it to me before. I knew she loved him, but I still didn't understand. I wasn't sure I would ever be able to understand how she could feel anything but hatred for such a monster. I wasn't sure she would ever be able to understand, either.

We weren't the only ones. Gazzy's eyes were wide when he said, "You loved someone who hurt you? But why?"

She started talking, but I wasn't listening. I could stand to hear how numb she sounded, how she just didn't seem to care. It wasn't like her to shut down, or maybe it was. Maybe her defense mechanism for feeling too much was closing herself off when she couldn't run away.

By the end of her speech, I could detect something in her voice, something wounded and small and not Max. Lacing my fingers with hers, I leaned down and brushed my lips against her ear. "Come on," I told her, "we should go somewhere else. Let them process this while we process on our own."

She didn't look at me, but she did take charge and led us out of the room. She went up the stairs and then we were in the hallway, looking at each other but not speaking.

It took awhile before she said anything, but finally, she sucked in air and spoke, "I didn't want them to know. I didn't want them to think I was weak, that I can't take care of them because I've got too much baggage."

"You can take care of them."

Exasperated, she flung her hands in the air. "I know that. Apparently, you know that. Who's to say what they're thinking?"

"That you don't trust them."

Her head tilted to one side. "Why would they think that?"

"Well," I started, "you didn't tell them about your dad. You kind of misled them, and they're probably wondering why you didn't tell them the truth."

"That's ridiculous," She exclaimed, looking at me with an indignant expression that suited her much better than blankness. In fact, it suited her so well, I was tempted to kiss her again, but I knew if I did she'd just run, something that couldn't happen when we were both so emotionally high strung.

Stifling my feelings, I shrugged. "Whatever."

"How did they find out?" She mused out loud, and I was relieved to see a bit of color returning to her previously pale cheeks.

Shrugging again, I absently started walking down the hallway just so we could be moving. "Maybe they just decided they wanted some dirt dug up."

Max scowled. I opened my mouth to continue my thought, but she clamped a hand over my mouth. Wheels were turning in her mind, I could almost hear the whirring of her thoughts flying by as she pieced together some puzzle.

"Where," She asked hotly, "was Angel's letter? Where was Angel during this whole thing?"

I hadn't read anyone else's letter. It was too personal and invasive. I knew I didn't want anyone to read mine, so why would I be a hypocrite and ponder their own letters? But looking back, I didn't remember seeing one for my sister. Nor was she present while we were reading our letters.

"That little…" Max muttered before screaming, "Angel!"

It didn't take long for my sister to crawl out from whatever hole she was hiding in. She looked much less put-together than usual, with her icy blond hair not even brushed and blue eyes bare and without make-up.

It was the first time in a long time that I remembered she was only a fourteen year old girl. Fourteen.

"What do you want?" She demanded snidely, already sounding sick of the conversation.

Max stalked up to her, legs trembling. "Was it you? Was this letter thing your idea? Is it your fault that they know?"

"Honey, I couldn't care less about your silly little letter," Angel inspected her nails before she turned to leave.

It was supposed to be a dismissal, but it was pretty clear that Max wasn't having that. Max grabbed Angel's shirt and swung her around to face us, and part of me was counting down the seconds before Angel pulled Max's hair or Max punched Angel's face.

"I'm not your honey," Max's voice grew louder as she declared, "And I know it was you! Don't pretend like you're so much better than me because you're not. You're disgusting, you know that? Do you get off on other people's misery?"

Angel dropped her I-Don't-Care façade for a moment and her blue eyes blazed. "So what? What if I do, what if I'd rather thrive on other people's pain than my own?"

"Pain?" Max was screeching, but I'd never pictured her as the screeching type. "What would you know about pain?"

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs distracted Angel momentarily, but not Max. I recognized the ranting face she was wearing, and there was no way she would let the subject drop, even if there was an audience.

"You are a privileged little brat," Max shouted. "You get whatever you want, whenever you want. You live with two of the best guys on the face of the earth. You're so freaking bored you hurt other people so you can laugh at how much better off you are! You're a snobby, self-righteous sadist and I hope someday someone hurts you the way you deserve."

I put a hand on Max's arm. Angel looked stunned, but there was something beneath it, a little bit of longing and loneliness. And as much as I cared about Max, I couldn't let her say those things to my sister, regardless of how true they may have been.

But I couldn't believe they were true. I didn't understand Angel, not anymore. She used to be perfect, she used to live up to her name. She'd pulled away, but every now and then, I'd get a glimpse of the sweet girl I remembered. Right now, the slight glimmer of hurt I saw was enough to make me hope we'd be able to get to Angel, find out how we could make her go back to the real her.

"Max, you can't—"

She shook me off. "I'm not done!"

She whirled on Angel. "My dad beat me. It didn't happen just once. He would hit me, kick me, say the meanest things you could imagine. Don't talk to me about hiding pain because I won't buy it, not when I've got so much of my own to deal with. And that's what I'm doing, dealing with it so I don't end up cold like you."

Angel didn't say anything. She stared at Max. She just stared. "Your daddy abused you?" She said quietly, her voice vulnerable and young.

Max looked taken aback, like she was expecting an entirely different response. "Yeah, he did. And it sucked, but I'm moving on so I can try to be happy."

Angel looked at the ground and said in a voice that was startlingly full of compassion, "I am so sorry, Max."

I reached for Angel. She looked up at me with a wide stare, and I brushed her curls away from her face. My own brow furrowing, I placed a kiss between her eyebrows and told her, "I don't know why you're like this. I don't know why you're suddenly crying instead of acting the way you have been acting. But me and Ig still love you."

Of course Max mentioning her father would spur a reaction from Angel. Of course it would. I knew why, I knew it was something they had in common, but how could I have forgotten?

Had Angel just been so cruel to me that I didn't care about the baggage she carried? Or had she become so cruel that I'd forgotten about her rape?

"Angel," Iggy said from off to the side. "Is this whole thing you've been doing, is it—"

She backed away. She turned and ran away, the action reminding me too much of Max.

Max was staring at Angel's back, and her brain was in overdrive again. This time, she didn't look angry, just confused. "What was that? She was almost normal there, for a second." Max turned to Iggy with her eyebrows raised. "And what did you mean?"

Iggy avoided the question. "That was really weird."

I smiled at her, but it was forced and I was sure Max knew it. "Normal for this house."

She smiled back, only it seemed even more forced than mine was. "True enough."

Our audience immediately started jumping in with a billion questions and comments. I cut them off, asking, "Can we have a minute?"

It took awhile to persuade them to leave, but as soon as they did, I positioned Max against the wall so she wouldn't try to leave. She got a panicked look in her eyes and she stammered, "I think we should go—go do something else."

"As opposed to what?"

She leaned her head back from me. "I don't know. You've got me pinned against a wall, I sure do wonder what you have planned." She glared at my mouth pointedly.

I chuckled. "I'm not going to kiss you."

She blinked. "You're not?"

"No."

"Oh. Good, or I would have punched you."

I smirked. "So do you promise you won't back out before we can figure this out?"

She nodded. She wrenched out of my grip.

I leaned away from her, even though my body and brain whined loudly. I knew what needed to be said, I knew what would be best for the both of us. "Just wanted to say it won't happen again. We can pretend like it didn't happen. We were both just… high on excitement, I guess."

Max breathed a sigh of relief. "Right, perfect. Exactly what I was thinking."

I was pretty sure we both knew we were lying, but neither of us called the other person out on it.

In a life of drama, it was so much easier to avoid whatever connection we had. It was easier, just easier.

It's easier, I told myself for about the billionth time, just easier.

(A/N) I spent forever agonizing over the editing of this chapter, but nothing was working for me. I'm still not totally satisfied, but this will have to do.