“Someone who didn’t have any choice,” my daddy replies, his eyelids fluttering shut. “I won’t leave her with anyone else ever again. If you knew what she’s gone through…”
Daddy doesn’t get to finish as his eyes roll into the back of his head and he goes to sleep. I don’t let fear swell up. He’ll be okay, I just have to get the bullet out of him. Squaring my shoulders, I grab the scissors and get to work cutting Daddy’s shirt off of his body.
Ledger grunts before he awkwardly shuffles closer to me and Daddy.
I stare up at the giant for a second, taking in his sheer size and the grim determination on his face. He’s a hero. Like Batman or Superman. Somehow he swooped in and saved my daddy from whatever threat had taken place upstairs. I have to repay him for such a brave act. I won’t let himormy daddy down.
Not today, tomorrow, or any time in the future.
I give him a tentative smile and promise softly, “Don’t worry. You saved my daddy, now I’ll save you.”
Chapter 1
Blair
Twenty Years Later
“That’s the second one to go today.”
Darlene, the nurse that had just spoken, steps closer to me. Her perfectly painted pink lips tip down at the corners as the two orderlies step out of the room and guide the hospital bed down the hallway. There’s no hiding the human form beneath the thick, crisp white sheet, but it grants the deceased some privacy while making sure the other residents of Sunset Hospice Care don’t have to witness their impending fate.
“It’s a full moon tonight, you know what that means, don’t you, CeCe?” Darlene continues, her voice lowering as she leans closer to me.
I hum quizzically, albeit with some distraction. My eyes scan the deceased patient’s paperwork, searching for the point of contact. Mr. Kinsley had mentioned two sons. What had he said their names had been?
“It means at least two more are going to die tonight,” she whispers.
There’s a slight whine in her voice which puzzles me some. Surely she understands the concept of hospice care given she’s been working here for a few years now. I guess it’s a good thing she doesn’t work the night shift. If her superstitious theory bodes correct, it’ll be me that deals with it.
“Let’s hope it’s a quiet evening,” I murmur as my eyes lock onto the section of paperwork where contact information should be.
My heart sinks at the empty lines. If Mr. Kinsley had two sons, they had washed their hands of their father. There’s no one to contact, so Mr. Kinsley had died alone, with no one to mourn his loss.
“I’ll pray for everyone here, and you too, CeCe. I remember the first couple years working in this particular field. Working alongside death and grief can take a toll on your mental health. So don’t worry, I know what you’re going through. You’re not alone. If two more do head home to our Great Maker tonight, know that it was their time.” She reaches out to grab a hold and squeeze my arm in what I think is comradery. “You’re taking care of yourself on your days off, right?”
My gaze flickers to her hand on my arm before lifting to meet her concerned, wide, blue eyes. I know this middle-aged woman, who wears a bit too much make-up and sticks her nose in the other nurses' business, is simply trying to connect with me. She, along with most of the other nurses here, have welcomed me with open arms since I was hired four months ago. They desperately needed another nurse around here and when they realized I was competent, they were eager to tuck me under their wings.
Unfortunately, I have a hard time relating to her, or really anyone else for that matter.
That’s mostly because everything about me is a perfectly curated lie, even my name. It’s hard trying to make connections with others when I have to be so painfully careful about keeping each and every lie straight. It’s so hard that I’ve found it easier to remain slightly aloof to keep from getting too chummy with everyone.
What makes it even harder to grow close to people in this particular industry is that I’m not affected by death like most people are. Death doesn’t bother meat all. In fact, I switched from being a traveling trauma nurse to a traveling hospice nurse simply so that I can remind myself that the dead and dying still are human beings. I make it a point to talk to each one of my patients, learning a little about them so that I see them as something more than a job. I don’t want to end up like Dad. It’s like he sees people as inanimate objects and feels nothing when he takes lives. Idon’twant to be like that.
“Yeah, I’m taking care of myself,” I lie with a smile that I hope belays gratefulness.
Darlene squeezes my arm once more before her hand falls away. “Good. It’s the first of September which means things will start cooling down now and craft fairs will start up. You should check them out. That really gets my mind off things here. If you want someone to go with you know you can call me. Me and my grandbaby love craft fairs.”
“I will, thanks.” Another lie.
“I’ll check Mr. Kinsley into the morgue then I’ll head out for the evening. You’re working with Tiffany tonight, right?”
I give her a nod. “Yeah, I saw her head into the breakroom just before Mr. Kinsley’s heart monitor went off.”
“Good, I’m glad she’s on time for once,” the older nurse says with a roll of her eyes. “You take care, CeCe. I’ll see you in the morning.”
"—andDaryl said that he was going to take me out Saturday night. I was thrilled, right? Then Saturday afternoon comes around and suddenly Daryl's all like 'oh shit, my boss called. I got to work'." Tiffany clacks her gum while she talks, her lips moving so fast it's hard to keep up with her story. "And I was all like 'but you never work on Saturday nights'. He told me he was gonna make it up to me and he was so sweet so I believed him. Like, why wouldn't I, you know? He's always been so freaking good to me. But anyway, I got this naggin' feeling in my head that I should go to the warehouse to just check. So I did. And guess what? He was nowhere to be seen. So I was like, 'where the hell is this guy?'"
As Tiffany talks, I go through all the charts of my patients—making sure I've filled out everything right and that I put them into the system. Tiffany thinks it's overkill to double, triple, and sometimes quadruple check my stuff but being cautious has saved my life countless times. That cautiousness bleeds over to other aspects of my life and has never been a problem. Why change it now?
