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She looks tired. She’s pale and so thin. Her hair is pulled back, exposing her prominent cheekbones. Her robe is gray in color and dingy looking.

She stands in front of her chair and holds out her arms to me. Dillon rests his hand on my lower back and gives me a gentle push toward my mother. I take a few slow steps toward her at first, but then quicken my steps until I’m in her arms sobbing. She squeezes me tight to her and rocks me like I’m five years old again.

“I’m sorry Amy. I’m so sorry,” she whispers into my hair as she strokes it with her fingers.

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you too. So so much,” she says as she continues to rock me in her arms.

We hold each other for several minutes before my mother whispers into my ear. “Who is that?”

I pull slightly away from her and wipe the tears from my face. I reach out for Dillon’s hand. “This is Dillon Andrews. He’s the boy from the ranch.”

“Dillon Andrews,” she repeats to herself. I watch her expression change as recognition sparks in her eyes. She remembers.

Dillon walks across the room and offers his hand to my mother, but to my surprise, she pulls him into a hug. I think I hear her whisper thank you to him.

My mother sniffles and her breaths hiccup as she begins to cry. She can’t seem to keep herself together. She sits back in her chair and sobs into her hands, repeating over and over how sorry she is. Dillon and I exchange looks and he gives me an encouraging nod to tell her what I came here to tell her. I kneel down in front of her and take her face into my hands. “Mother. I know the truth. I know about Alex and David. I know that David is my father and what he did to you. I know why we never left that house. I know that you were sick and didn’t get the help you needed. I don’t blame you for anything. I know you tried to protect me the only way you knew how. And you did it, you kept me safe. All of those years, you hid me from him. Thank you. He’s gone now. He can’t hurt us anymore. I want you to know that I love you.”

“I love you too Amy,” she whimpers. “I have something for you.” She reaches into her nightstand drawer and pulls out a wrapped gift tied in a beautiful pink bow and hands it to me. I don’t know what to say. She has never given me a gift. I stare at it for a moment before she pulls me into a hug, and when she releases me, she stands to her feet and wraps her arms around Dillon. “Take care of my daughter, Dillon.”

“I will,” he whispers to her.

My mother climbs back into her bed to rest. I tell her about Buster and the sunsets and s’mores until her eyes close.

An hour into the drive home, we receive the call. My mother passed peacefully in her sleep. Her heart just stopped. She had been suffering heart arrhythmia since her overdose and although they were trying to keep her stable, her heart just couldn’t take anymore.

Dillon and I finish the drive in silence. He holds my hand while I stare at the wrapped gift from my mother.

That night, I sit with my legs crossed in the middle of the bed studying the gift in my hand. I know what it is. Dillon quietly climbs into bed, positioning himself behind me and cradling me in his arms as he sets his chin on my shoulder.

“What is it?”

I slowly remove the paper and the ribbon from the storybook. There is no note. There doesn’t need to be one. I understand. I clutch the book to my chest and let myself cry for the happily ever after my mother never had, and I cry happy tears knowing that she believes I found mine and that she can now rest in peace.

“It’s my story,” I tell him.

Dillon pulls me to him and holds me as I continue to hold onto the old worn storybook. I close my eyes while listening to the beat of his heart, and fall into the most restful sleep, wrapped in the comfort of his arms.

I’m spinning. I’m dressed in white. The sun shines bright up in the vivid blue sky, warming my skin. The leaves on the elm tree are bright green and dancing in the gentle breeze. The rolling hills surround me with the most colorful wildflowers. I stop spinning. Where’s Dillon? I look frantically all around me, but I can’t find him. My heart starts to beat rapidly. I look for the fence. The darkness on the other side of the fence. I can’t find the fence.

Then I see him. He’s riding his horse toward me. He stops beside me and offers me his hand.

“Dillon?” I have to block the bright sunshine from my eyes. He doesn’t look real.

“Come on Amy. Come with me. You’re free.”

I take his hand and he lifts me up onto the horse in front of him and then wraps his arms around me.

“Where’s the fence?” I ask.

“It’s gone.”