Shelby Anderson Barnum–Connor Barnum

Shelby Anderson Barnum and Connor Barnum’s father-daughter relationship gives Shelby a dependable place to turn as she tries to build a life in Ellensburg after leaving Los Angeles. Connor’s care is neither a quick solution to her distress nor a demand that she recover on his timetable. He offers affection, notices changes she would rather conceal, and urges her to move forward at her own pace; Shelby, in turn, begins to admit how difficult the move and college have become. Their bond is defined by both intimacy and strain: they love one another, but the past that brought them to Ellensburg weighs on each of them differently.

Identity and Background

Connor is Shelby’s father and the person she associates most directly with safety and love. Their move from Los Angeles follows painful events connected to Shelby’s past. The narrative does not make the relocation a simple fresh start: Los Angeles remains the home she misses, while Connor believes that staying there would keep them surrounded by painful memories. He wants the change to give his daughter room to rebuild, even as he, too, misses the city.

Shelby’s adjustment is already difficult when she begins college. She requests a room without a roommate, and, after arranging her belongings in the initially undecorated space, makes it her own. The decision conveys her need for control and privacy as she enters a crowded new environment. It does not mean that she no longer needs connection. Her attachment to Connor remains a central source of reassurance, even while she is trying to manage the distance and independence that come with university life.

The Strain of Starting Over

A phone call from Shelby’s dormitory reveals the difference between what she tells her father and what she is experiencing. When Connor asks whether the university suits her, she describes the campus positively and says that people are kind, but the narration makes clear that she is concealing her difficulties. Connor notices her attempt to avoid the subject. He worries that she may sink back into a very low state after struggling against her inner demons, yet he does not force her to disclose more during the call.

The call also establishes their shared attachment to Los Angeles. Connor admits that he misses it; Shelby privately longs for its beach, ocean waves, sunsets, and nighttime walks. She does not blame her father for their departure. Instead, she turns the blame inward, believing that her own past is the reason they had to leave. She asks whether they might return for a week during the summer. Connor does not promise a visit, reminding her to get through her first year before planning a holiday. His reply is practical rather than dismissive, but the exchange leaves the separation from their former home unresolved.

Their differing experiences of Ellensburg come into sharper focus when Shelby visits Connor. She sees that he feels at ease there, while she still finds the change hard to bear. She recalls that she had recovered some optimism after her mother’s sudden death, only to have that optimism taken from her again. Connor’s comfort in the new setting does not cancel her sense of loss; the relationship has to hold both his hope for a new beginning and her grief over what was left behind.

Care Through Attention and Presence

When Connor opens the door, he takes Shelby into his arms and kisses her forehead. She closes her eyes and holds him back, relieved to be there: in his embrace, she feels safe and loved. This physical affection is presented as a particular comfort, not merely a greeting. At home she is also welcomed by Loki, the family’s black German Shepherd, whom she crouches to pet. The familiar warmth of the household gives her a moment of belonging even though she still misses the house and sea view in Los Angeles.

Connor also makes space for Shelby to speak rather than assuming he already knows what she needs. Sitting beside her in the garden, he puts an arm around her shoulders and draws her close, a gesture that does not trouble her. He tells her she can tell him anything and asks what is happening. Shelby is then able to name the immediate pressures: she has not adjusted to the move, college seems to be making things worse, and the crowds leave her intensely stressed. She has met two women, but finds them somewhat overwhelming despite believing they are kind.

Connor responds with reassurance and advice. He acknowledges that Shelby is wary of other people, encourages her to open up gradually, and cautions against remaining isolated. His concern is grounded in specific changes he has observed: she is not eating and is smoking more. Shelby does not deny it. This exchange makes their care reciprocal in an important sense: Connor pays attention to the details of her daily life, and Shelby lets him see that his observations are right, even when the admission is painful.

Honesty, Guilt, and a Pace of Her Own

Connor explains that they left Los Angeles for a reason: he believes Shelby can begin rebuilding in a place where her past will not confront her on every street. He still calls Los Angeles their home, but insists that what happened there made a change of environment necessary. Shelby understands what he means without finding it easy. She apologizes, and Connor rejects the idea that the move is her fault—or anyone’s. He asks her to lift her head in her own time, while revealing how painful it is for him to see her in such a state.

His own emotion changes the direction of the conversation. Shelby notices tears on his cheeks, sits up, and wipes them away with her sleeves. She answers his plea by nodding and kissing his forehead before going inside. The gesture does not erase her distress, but it shows her responding to his vulnerability as well as receiving his care. Their bond is not portrayed as one-sided protection: Connor tries to steady his daughter, and her tenderness toward him acknowledges the burden he carries too.

The relationship continues to involve concrete support as Shelby’s difficulties persist. She has appointments with a psychologist and a nutritionist, and she has told her father about the latter. He is encouraging and tries to be present despite his fear for her. Before one visit, she considers spending time at her father’s home over the weekend and promises herself to become more open to people, including Lydia. Her effort is difficult, but she begins to believe that the women around her are well-intentioned rather than acting out of pity. Connor’s encouragement to resist isolation thus becomes part of a wider effort Shelby makes, not a demand that she suddenly become comfortable with everyone.

Development and Significance

Connor’s role is defined by constancy rather than a dramatic cure. He cannot promise that Shelby will return to Los Angeles, remove the painful past, or make college feel manageable. He can notice what she hides, offer her a safe embrace, ask direct questions, and remind her that she need not blame herself for their circumstances. Shelby, for her part, does not immediately become at ease in Ellensburg; she continues to miss her former home and to struggle with stress, eating, smoking, and the demands of treatment. The relationship remains a point of support within that ongoing difficulty.

The book’s closing reflection describes recovery as an uncertain process that may take months or years, undertaken alone or with company. It presents Shelby and Jungkook as having moved forward in their own ways and together, leaving their demons behind. Connor is not named in that final statement, so it does not resolve his relationship with Shelby through a specific concluding scene. Instead, the earlier father-daughter moments establish one of the conditions that makes forward movement imaginable: a home where Shelby can admit that she is not coping, be held without having to pretend otherwise, and be encouraged to proceed at her own pace.