“Just … give me a minute … ” she murmured. A deep breath, and another, and the image of walls, solid and unbreakable but crystal clear, held firmly in her mind. She opened her eyes, slowly, and groped for Isaac’s hand. “Afraid. You’re afraid,” she said clearly, and, “if you want to go, I won’t stop you. I understand.”
He reached out and curled his fingers around hers, smoothing his thumb across the back of her hand. “Not of you, but of hurting you,” he protested quickly and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere, Summer. I promise.”
“You aren’t hurting me.” She batted him away from her forehead. “Hey, don’t do that. I’m not a child.” Drawing her hand from his, she pushed herself upright and folded her legs tailor-fashion. “He wasn’t entirely … wrong,” she said quietly. “I can do what he said.”