Page 36 of Dandelions and Smoke

My direction must trigger a jumpstart somewhere in her mind because she blinks slowly until the distant look in her eyes sharpens and she turns her attention to me. Her face is filled with a mix of fear and pain that very few understand, nearly sending me to my knees. It’s as though I’m staring into a blue abyss filled with unspoken heartache. The floodgates have opened, and there is a storm in her eyes as she blinks up at me behind damp lashes.

“T-Tris?” she stammers, her eyes ping-ponging between mine as she braces, like someone who has had the ground ripped from under her one too many times. “Is sh-she okay?”

Ainsley’s eyes snap from Rory to me. I trail my hands over her arms, attempting to comfort her.

“She was conscious,” I say, choosing my words carefully, not wanting to tell her a lie but not wanting to scare her either. “Her injuries looked minor, and the EMTs didn’t find any visible inflammation in her throat, which is a good thing. They’ll check her out further at the hospital.”

She inhales her first steady breath and nods while the knot inside me begins to loosen.

“We can meet her at the hospital so we’re there when she’s ready,” Ainsley tries again, looking around as everyone who’s still here gets into the rig, ready to leave.

I start to drop my hands from Rory’s arms, but her hand shoots up, squeezing mine, not letting me go.

I shift closer to her, noticing how her shoulders seem to relax slightly as I do.

“Do you want to ride with me?” I ask, a flare of hope sparking inside.

She nods her head, and Ainsley gives me a small smile from over Rory’s shoulder.

“I’ll meet ya’ll there.”

I nod, wrapping an arm around Rory’s small frame and helping her into my truck. Her cold hand still trembles in mine as she stares blankly ahead. Before I’ve even shut the door, she’s already pulled her knees to her chest, curling into herself, somehow looking smaller than I ever thought possible. I open my utility trunk and tear off my turnout coat along with the rest of my top gear, not wanting to subject her to any fumes or carcinogens as we drive, and take a second to collect myself.

Billy said earlier that she’s been through a lot, but I’m not sure I realized until I saw her reaction tonight what that meant. I’m still not sure, and won’t be unless she chooses to fill me in. I close the trunk and lean my head briefly on the cold metal, letting it anchor me. How can it feel like I know her so completely, yet know so little about the past that sculpted her into who she is? How can two things so contradictory be simultaneously true?

Before joining Rory in the truck, I throw on my hoodie and stop, taking in the wreckage the fire has left behind. I almost laugh when I see past the destruction to what’s still standing, untouched and unaffected. Closing the door, I glance out the window, letting the irony sink in as we drive away. All I can see is dandelions and smoke.

EIGHT

CHIEF

Beside me in her seat, Rory rocks slightly, the grip she has on her arms visibly tightening every few seconds, her fingers curling and uncurling, digging in. The air is charged, and I can feel it, sense it in my gut before she snaps. We’re halfway to the hospital when Rory’s silence turns to panic.

“Pull over!” she gasps, fumbling with her seatbelt as she reaches for the handle before we’ve come to a complete stop.

She hops out, taking a few steps before stumbling back. Resting against the truck, she draws in long, deep breaths. I’m out of my seat and standing in front of her by her second exhale, concern and fear engulfing me as I try to figure out how to help. Her eyes pinch shut, and her hands bury themselves in her curly hair, tugging at the roots as if she can rip the thoughts from her mind.

“I can’t do this again,” she blurts, clutching at her throat as though every word costs her. “I can’t.”

“What can’t you do, Rory?” I ask gently, running my hands up her arms to where hers connect to her head, carefully drawing them away so she won’t hurt herself.

Her eyes open, looking wide and haunted. “I can’t lose someone I love again,” she exhales, sounding defeated as her shoulders slump and her head tilts back, staring blankly up at the sky.

I take her hands in mine as I hold the silence, squeezing them so she knows I’m here while giving her the space to fill it.

“When my mom died, it was only a month after my twenty-first birthday. She kicked me out when I wouldn’t buy her more alcohol. I wasn’t surprised. When other kids were having sleepovers, I was making sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit. While they were playing, I was trying to figure out where my next meal would come from. We survived, but barely.”

She pauses, pulling her lip in between her teeth as a tear streams down the side of her face.

“She was cold when I found her. She died, and I was so angry that I couldn’t even be sad about it. Come to find out that one of the reasons I resented her wasn’t even true. All my life, she wasn’t trying to keep my father from me. She was trying to keep me from my father. The man I thought didn’t know I existed?” Her face tilts so that she’s looking me in the eyes, making sure I’m listening. “Turns out he never wanted me either.”

It takes everything in me not to find this man right now and make sure he knows exactly what I think of him. My jaw ticks while I keep it together for her. She laughs, but it’s caught on a sob, and more tears fall. I don’t try to wipe them from her face. Instead, I hang on every word, letting this flood of thoughts and emotion run its course for as long as she needs.

“I had no idea I had any family. I didn’t know Lucas existed, and I was alone for years even before she actually died.” She presses her lips together to hold back another sob, but still the silent pain guts me. “Then I met Blake and Sara. God, I must have practiced what I wanted to say on the trip up to see him over a thousand times, but ‘put together and well thought out’ may be the furthest from how I’d describe myself. But it didn’t matter because Sara saw me. I had a real mom for five minutes, and then she was gone too. Now Tris is in the hospital.”

She pauses, taking a shaky breath.

“Is it me?” Her voice cracks. “Is it only a matter of time before everyone I care about is ripped from my life? Am I so much of a mess and a stain on this earth that this is what I deserve?”