“I think I’m going to get sick.”
Chapter 4
Elmira
Hildy
The flight is only an hour. Sixty minutes suspended in the air between the life I knew and the one I’m about to walk into. My ears pop when we land, my heart still racing like the plane never slowed. Claudia keeps a hand lightly on my back as we move through the tiny private terminal, someone already waiting to usher us into a cab like this was coordinated long before I even said yes to coming.
“My first flight was to Brooklyn for an internship. My second over an ocean, with an infant, and then back to Brooklyn. I met Nalani on that flight, and if I hadn’t, Savannah and I wouldn’t have had a place to stay.Henever made the reservation he’d said he did, and there were no rooms available, not that I had the money for one. My point,” she smiles. “I hate flying too.”
“You didn’t have to come, I’m sorry. I?—”
“I did have to.” She states adamantly. “That’s how humanityshouldwork. You see someone who needs your help, and if you’re able, you step up.” She nods to the lights in front of us, thehospital coming into view. “It is never easy accepting help when you’re used to doing it all on your own. But Hildy, whoever told us or made us believe that it made us weaker was a fool.”
“I promise one day I will pay it forward.” I force a smile that is genuine, but just doesn’t want to come as easily as it should.
“Girl, I know that.” She winks.
We pull up at the emergency room entrance. My hands shake as I pull out my phone and text Erin.
Me:
I’m here. Where do I go?
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Erin:
Waiting room outside pediatric wing. Fourth floor. I’ll meet you.
The elevator ride feels endless. Every ding makes my chest jump. Claudia stands beside me like a wall, calm, steady, eyes scanning everything the way she does, even when she pretends she’s relaxed.
When the doors open, Erin is already there.
She looks older than the girl I knew. More tired. Kinder though. Her badge swings against her sweater as she rushes forward, hands warm when she grips mine.
“I’m so glad you came,” she says softly.
I nod because I can’t speak yet.
She leads us into a quieter corner of the waiting room, away from the late-night murmurs and vending machines humming in the background.
“There’s something else,” she says gently. Careful. Like she knows it’s another blow, and my stomach tightens to prepare for it. “Lucy… she’s your mother and father’s child.”
“What?” I whisper.
Erin nods, sympathetic. “They reconnected while your mom and grandmother were in Florida. That’s when she got pregnant.” She whispers. “He’s back in prison again.”
Florida. The memory slams into me so hard I have to sit.
My junior year. My mother calling in tears, saying they had no heat, no lights, Grandma is sick, medication too expensive, begging me to take out a student loan because they’d die without help. I remember sitting on my dorm bed sobbing while filling out the forms I didn’t understand, convincing myself that family came first.
Family….
A week later, I saw the photos.
My mother. My grandmother. Smiling on a beach in Florida, like life was a vacation I funded, and it was.
