“Daddy?” Clara’s voice was splintered, the pieces so sharp they tore away my flesh. I’d never forget the sound of that single word, the absolute terror in it. I’d never forget her pale face and my eyes locking with hers, knowing that they’d never be clear with innocence again. That singular event, the moment of my distraction, were the reasons my daughter would never know pure joy without it being tainted by that day.
It was seconds before this all passed through my brain. I pulled her into my body, holding her tight, kissing her head.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” I frantically searched her. She was wearing too many layers. Too many places for an injury to hide. It was a single gunshot. But it could’ve gone through—it could’vegone through Hannah’s body and hit Clara.
It was the single most sickening thought I’d had to confront in my life.
She shook her head quickly. “No, Hannah—” she hiccupped. “Hannah, she protected me.”
My baby was okay. My child was okay.
But Hannah.
Was sandwiched between us. My knees were wet. I thought it was snow. But it was too warm. Too much.
It was blood.
I was soaked in Hannah’s blood.
Clara scrambled away from my hands to get to Hannah.
I stayed frozen in place for another second. Maybe two.
I’d torture myself over those two seconds. Because I wasn’t looking at Hannah, I didn’t realize that every single moment mattered. That I’d only have a few more chances to look upon her. Before we lost her.
HANNAH
The snow was freezing. But there was something warm underneath me.
The sky above me was extremely blue.
Someone was crying.
Calling my name.
Clara. Clara.
Her face entered my vision, streaked with tears. With fear so visceral it speared through my chest.
My chest. It hurt. A lot.
But that didn’t matter. Clara did. I reached up to her face, to cradle it. My arm only got halfway there. She caught it in her small palm, covered with a glove. I ached to feel her skin against mine. Her mouth was moving.
Someone covered me with something. A coat.
It was Beau. He was there too, his daughter tucked into his side. Had he been there the whole time?
His mouth was moving too. His eyes were wide with terror.
I wanted to tell him it was okay. That as long as Clara was okay, I was okay.
When I found the strength to open my mouth, there were people.
EMTs. I recognized them. I saw them just last week.
We have to stop meeting like this.
Did I say that in my mind or out loud?
