But I don’t get to worry because my cell rings from the pool of clothes on the floor.
It’s the hospice.
Frowning, I swipe to answer the call.
Sometimes all it takes is a moment to change your life.
Sometimes life gives you a sliver of joy before snatching it back just as fast.
And sometimes life breaks you down in a matter of seconds.
The phone slips from my hand as Kane turns to look at me while I scramble off the bed to throw on my clothes.
“What’s up?” he asks, rising to his feet.
“It’s Mom. She’s taken a turn for the worse. I have to get to the hospice now.”
Kane swipes his keys off the nightstand. “I’ll drive you.”
EIGHTEEN
JESSICA
When I crash through the door, the others are already here. Summer sits by Mom’s side, cradling her fragile hand, silent tears sliding down her cheeks. She barely looks up as I hurry to Mom’s bedside. Behind me, Chris leans against the wall, hugging his midriff, eyes downcast, as if he can’t look at Mom or it’ll become real.
“Mom?” My voice cracks. “I’m here now. We’re all here.”
She’s unconscious, but I keep talking as if she can hear me. I have to, or I’ll break down in tears. Mom was always the glue that held our family together. Without her, we’re barely keeping it together.
One look around the room confirms it.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask, surprised by the shot of anger that heats the hollow ache inside me. The old man is always gone these days, drowning his sorrows at some rundown bar. But this time is different. Mom might not make it, and this could be his last chance to say goodbye. So why the hell isn’t he here?
Chris keeps his head down, his eyes obscured by blonde locks, staring at the floor like he’s trying to drill a hole to the earth’s core.
“We don’t know,” Summer says quietly, more tears wobbling on her lower lashes. “He hasn’t been home for days.”
The heartbeat monitor continues its steady beat, though much slower than usual, the gap between each beep stretching too long.
I’m exhausted. The bubble I shared with Kane has burst, and now I’m bone tired and upset with myself for not being here sooner.
“You would know that if you’d been home,” my brother says with a bite in his tone. “But you were with him, weren’t you?”
“Chris,” Summer snaps, surprising me with her sharp voice. It’s not like her to stand up to our brother, or anyone. “Can we not argue for once? Mom might not regain consciousness again.” Summer wipes her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling.
Guilt slams into me like a wrecking ball, not because of where I’ve been or what I’ve done. It’s because of this… The hurt in my sister’s eyes.
When I’m busy distracting myself with Kane and running from trouble, who’s there for her? Next to Mom, I’ve always been her shelter in the storm, but I’m barely staying upright these days. One more gust of wind, and I’ll collapse.
“I don’t want to lose her,” she says, her voice barely audible above the heart rate monitor.
“Hey.” I carefully place Mom’s pale hand back down. It’s cold, with a yellow tint and protruding veins, the nails brittle and dry.
I hold my palm out to Summer, and she meets me halfway, interlacing her fingers with mine. I duck my head slightly to catch her gaze. “She’ll always be with us.”
Glassy tears well in her eyes before spilling over. She doesn’t bother to wipe them away this time, her gaze steady on mine, despite the tremble in her chin.
“She’ll never leave.” I brush my thumb over the top of her hand, back and forth, trying to soothe her as best I can, trying to soothe us both. “She’ll live on. In each of us.”
