My dad.
They werejusthere. He was laughing and joking, playing with Phoebe. We talked about visiting for St. Patrick’s Day, since it falls during her Spring Break, and Enchanted Hollow has a whole week of activities.
I don’t understand how we went from that conversation to this one.
The room tilts.
“I’m here,” Aiden whispers against my ear.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” my mom rushes on. “I waited to call until we knew more, because I didn’t want to scare you. But I don’t know how to make sense of what they’re saying. Your brothers are here, but they don’t know what questions to ask…”
“I’ll come,” I say immediately.
There’s a pause before she lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, Chloe. I hate to ask this of you. Your hands are already so full.”
Shedidn’task. That’s the thing.
I know there’s more layered under this moment than just my dad and a hospital room. Aiden and I need to talk about the will—about what this new information means and how we both feel.
But I think I need to go.
Not because I’m needed. Because I don’t want to look back and carry the guilt that I had time, and I could’ve given him one last hug or held his hand, and I chose not to go.
I think Aiden would wholeheartedly agree.
“You’re not asking,” I tell her. “I’ll book a flight and let you know the details.”
The relief in her voice is immediate, but it doesn’t decide this for me. I already did.
“I will,” I tell her. “See you soon.”
When the room goes silent again, everything in me feels pulled too tight. Like one wrong move might make it all worse.
First the will, then my dad.
Two emotional earthquakes back to back feel like tempting fate, and we don’t need more.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” he says, quietly. “But she could put you on a video call with the doctors, and you could do the same thing from here.Ifall she needs is help with answers.”
He’s right. My brothers are there and can do everything I can do.
More, probably.
Going all the way to Texas means rearranging Phoebe’s life, even though it’s temporary. I’m removing her from the place she’s settled into, like she’s always belonged.
“Mom needs me, Aiden,” I tell him. “She’s scared. She won’t know how to do this without me—you heard her.”
He gently cradles my jaw and tips my face toward his so I can’t hide in my feelings.
“She needs you there? Or shewantsyou there?”
I swallow.
“If you feel like you need to be there Chloe, we’ll book everything right this minute.” He tips his head toward the computer. “But you need to go because you want to go for yourself. Not because you feel like it’s your job to hold everyone else together.”
I nod, staring at the floor.
My thoughts splinter—planes, Phoebe, school, packing, explaining, the will, the farm,us. It’s too much to hold at once.
