I smile at him, ignoring the tightness in my throat. He's awake. He's talking. And right now, that's enough.
A beat of silence stretches between us before his expression shifts. I know what he's thinking before he even says it.
"Is your mom..." He stops himself, because he alreadyknows.
I swallow hard, adjusting in my seat. "We could, um, video call her?"
He takes a slow, deliberate breath. "Yeah. Let's try that."
I pull out my phone and dial. The call rings once. Then twice. And finally—
"Elowen?" Mom’s voice is muffled as the screen stays dark.
I lift the phone so she can see me. "Mom, video," I say.
A pause, then, "What?" comes back like someone waking from a dream.
"This is avideo call," I repeat, louder this time.
Across the bed, Dad rolls his eyes, his first real glimpse of exasperation since waking up. Glad to see he's feeling like himself again.
Mom still doesn't take the hint. "Elowen, stop messing around. What do you want?"
I glance at Dad, giving him a small, knowing smile before sighing. "I'll call you later, Mom."
And then I hang up.
"She hasn't left the house in over a year," Dad murmurs.
I nod slowly. "I know." A beat passes before I add, "She should be here."
He gives me a tight, tired smile. "She would if she could."
The words scrape something raw inside me.
"I got on a flight the second I found out," I tell him. "She can drive fifteen minutes up the road."
"She's not like you, Ellie Girl," he says gently.
"She used to be." The words are weak, even to my own ears.
Dad reaches out, his fingers trembling. I take his hand, holding it tight.
"Thank you for being here," he says.
My throat stings. "Nothing could've kept me away."
He nods, like that's exactly what he expected me to say. "Has Jasper been by?"
I shake my head. "Brooks has, though."
Dad hitches a shoulder. "We're the only family he has."
Something uneasy settles in my stomach. "What happened to his grandma?" I ask hesitantly. "He hasn’t mentioned her much." I don't know why I haven't asked Brooks directly. Maybe because we've never been close like that.
Dad exhales, the sound tinged with something heavy. "She died in her sleep about four months after you left," Dad says. "Brooks found her."
The words drop into my chest. I didn’t know.
