“It doesn’t sound dumb. Not at all,” he assured her. “It’s also not true, but it’s not dumb to feel that way. People hang onto all kinds of crazy theories when their brains are trying to make sense of something that makes no sense.”
Theories like…you’re the only qualified person who can protect the President of the United States?
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. You wouldn’t believe what some people make themselves believe,” he said wryly.
“I can’t tell Troy,” she blurted. “Don’t say anything, Okay?”
“Your secret is safe with me. Promise.”
She turned to face him, a small smile on her tear-streaked face. It was the first time she’d looked at him since she’d made her admission. “We’d better go. The sky’s still clear, but that can change fast.”
He nodded and helped her pack the picnic remnants and flannel blanket back into her pack.
It should’ve made him feel good that she’d felt comfortable confiding such a deep secret to him when she couldn’t even tell Troy, the brother she lived with and deeply loved. The person who took care of her every single day. But it didn’t.
He had no illusions about why that was. He’d heard it said once that the closer you are to someone, the more you love and trust them, the more you can reveal to them. Up to a point, anyway. But when it comes to your deepest, darkest truths, it’s easier to reveal them to a perfect stranger than even the closest friend. He’d found that to be true over and over again. After all, wasn’t that the very foundation that programs like AA were based on? When it came to baring your soul, the truly dark parts of your soul, you needed a stranger.
And that, he realized with a slowly-settling sinking sensation in his gut, was essentially what he was. To his own sister.
Damn. Maybe time to start thinking about changing that.