Page 94 of Freefall

She stops short when she notices all three of us sitting on the tiny hospital bed. “Oh, um…hi.”

Her gaze ping-pongs between Harper and me.

“Dani,” I say quietly. “You’ve met my sister, Emory. She’s been taking care of Daisy.”

Harper looks at Emory, genuine gratitude shining behind the gold flecks in her eyes. “Yes, I…thank you.”

“Of course.” Emory props the crutches against the wall and starts unrolling the compression wrap, muttering something under her breath. I know my sister, and at this point, she’s hanging on to every shred of professionalism she has left. I look to Harper, and she gives me the smallest nod.

“Daisy,” I whisper, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. “Can you wake up for a second? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Her eyelids flutter open just enough to look at me. “This is my sister, Emory.”

Emory smiles brightly. “Hi, Daisy. It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“And Em.” My eyes slide to hers. “This is your niece.”

24

HARPER

“You’ve reached Jace. Drop me a line…or don’t.”

Jace has had the same outgoing message for the last three years. Before that, it was one of those generic ones with a robotic woman’s voice. That one used to make my insides twist. It was the one I heard every time he relapsed and disappeared on a week-long bender. My calls went unanswered while my mind spiraled through every awful possibility. This message is different. I can tell from his voice that he was sober when he recorded it, and when I first heard it, I imagined him having enough hope to want something permanent in his life rather than a placeholder.

But now, as I listen to the same words for what has to be the hundredth time, all I feel is dread curling in my stomach. It’s been almost a week since Jace showed up drunk at my house and stole every dollar I had in my purse, and I still haven’t been able to reach him. I even went to his apartment, but Connor said he hasn’t been back since the night they went to the bar. He was really apologetic, but I told him my brother is an adult and can make his own decisions. Jace’s roommate is not responsible for his sobriety.

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy, sweetie.” My mother's gentle voice filters into the room as I end the call without leaving a message. “He’ll be back when he needs something again.”

It’s a heartless thing to say, and normally I’d call her on it, but I know deep in my heart that it’s true. So instead, I say, “I know, but I can’t stop trying.”

The day after Jace showed up, I walked over to my parents’ house while Daisy was at school and told them what happened. They weren’t surprised, and I knew instantly that the worry on their faces wasn’t for Jace. It was for Daisy and me. The realization broke my heart because somewhere along the way, they stopped believing he could be saved.

I can’t imagine giving up on my own child.

I told them exactly that. Mom looked like I shattered her heart, and Dad pulled me against his chest while I cried into his shirt. For a few minutes, I felt like a little kid again, and that somehow made me angrier. How can they be so supportive of me—so endlessly loving—and treat Jace like he’s nothing more than a stranger who’d spent his entire life upending theirs?

I didn’t speak to either of them again until the day Daisy sprained her ankle. The second we got home from the hospital, my parents swooped in. Dad set up a “temporary recovery area” in their living room, complete with pillows to prop up her foot, enough snacks to feed a football team, and his old iPad loaded with all her favorite shows. Mom went to the library and borrowed every graphic novel she could find, setting them in a neat row next to the makeshift bed on their couch.

Daisy has been home from school since her fall, and my parents have been watching her during the day so I can catch up on editing. When I came over to get her a little while ago, my mom walked in with a tray of scones and two steaming mugs of tea. She had asked if I heard anything from Jace, which prompted me to call him once again.

“Maybe you could take a little break,” she suggests.

“Thanks for the tea, Mom, and for watching Daisy this week, but I think we should get back now.”

Her blue eyes soften. “I’m worried about you, Harper.”

If only she knew.

There’s so much more going on besides Jace. My parents have always respected my privacy, and the guest house sits far enough from the main house that I don’t think they’ve noticed my recent company. I haven’t told them about reconnecting with Nate, and by some miracle, Daisy hasn’t mentioned him either. Not while I’ve been around, anyway. Hopefully the unlimited cartoons have been enough to keep her from getting chatty while I’m gone.

I know I can’t keep it a secret from them forever, especially not now that Daisy knows Nate’s her dad. When Nate first told me she’d found out, I didn’t panic like I thought I would. I was sad I hadn’t been there, but by the time we got home that night, that sadness had shifted into relief.

It was time.

Surprisingly, Daisy hasn’t said much about it. That night, I told her she could ask me anything. We could talk whenever she was ready. She’d nodded, then gone right back to watching her show.

“Harper?”