Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)

IT’S MOVING day, and Eli just picked up the last load of Sarah’s stuff. True to his word, Caleb has been completely absent today. It doesn’t hurt. I understand his reasons, and after our little discussion, we both agreed that distance between him and Sarah is the best answer. I can’t keep them as separate part of my life forever, but for now, this seems to work.

Eli Tanner is my new pal. He showed up bright and early this morning to help me move all of Sarah’s stuff into our new two-bedroom apartment. Without even asking, he walked in and immediately started packing boxes. We didn’t think it was right to ask Brett to help. His opinion of Sarah isn’t any better than Caleb’s right now. So Eli brought along another friend, Ty Stephens, to help. He’s a big quiet guy who has probably only said ten words to me all day. However, he’s been working his ass off. Between the two guys, they have made quick work of this move.

“Hello?” I answer my phone. “Eli, no! That’s my room. Sorry…hello?”

“Miss Erickson?”

“Yes?” I say, pulling the phone away from my ear to look at the caller ID on the screen.

“My name is Dr. Preston Clark. I work at Building Foundations. I’m currently treating your sister, Sarah.”

“Oh, hi! Is she okay?” I quickly ask as guilt and panic settle in my stomach.

I haven’t talked to Sarah since that day in the hospital. I’ve tried, but she just rejects my calls. I get updates from the center, but it’s always from her the patient coordinator, Judy. This is the first time I’ve actually heard from one of her doctors.

“Yes, Sarah is fine. I was wondering if you would be available to come in for one of her therapy sessions this week?”

“Really? Does Sarah know you’re calling? Does she want me there? Will she talk to me?” I rush out a million miles an hour, causing the good doctor to laugh a little.

“Yes, she does. We were hoping you could come in tomorrow?”

“Can I come today?” I can’t contain my excitement. I’ve been wanting to talk to her for weeks now.

“Sarah’s session is in thirty minutes. Perhaps tomorrow—”

“I’ll be there!” I jump to my feet, scanning the room for my keys.

“Miss Erickson, really, tomorrow—” He starts, but I once again cut him off.

“Please, please just let me come today! I’ve been dying to talk to her, but she has been avoiding me. Please. I can be there in twenty-five minutes.”

He lets out a resigned sigh but finally answers. “Don’t speed.”

“Thank you!! I’ll see you in a few.” I quickly hang up the phone. “Eli!” I scream, and he pokes his head around the corner.

“What’s up, babe?”

“Can you finish this up on your own? I hate to do this. I really, really appreciate your help, but I just got a call and I can see Sarah if I get there in the next half hour.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Go ahead and get out of here. I’ll drop the key off with Jones when we’re done.”

“Thank you!” I shout over my shoulder as I sprint to my car.

Thirty minutes later, I walk into a large medical building.

“Hi, I’m Emma Erickson. I’m here to see Dr. Clark.”

“Please have a seat. I’ll let him know you are here,” a sweet older lady says from behind a glass window.

I sit in the waiting room, frantically trying to figure out what I’m going to say to Sarah. I have so many things to say, but I don’t want to set her off. Damn it, I really should have waited until tomorrow to figure out the best way to approach her.

I nervously wait. I must redo my ponytail twelve times before they finally call me to the back.

“Mrs. Erickson?”

“That’s me.” I jump to my feet.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Clark.” He extends a hand.

“Hi. Please just call me Emma.”

“Okay, Emma. Sarah is waiting for us in my office.”

He guides me through the winding halls. This place is definitely more hospital-like than it is celebrity resort. I guess that’s what you get for a court-mandated treatment facility though.

He stops just outside an office door. “Today is going to be you listening. I wish we could have had more time to discuss things on the phone, but it is what it is. This is not the time for you to tell Sarah how you feel. This is the time to listen and ask questions. Got it?”

“I can do that,” I say, more eager than ever knowing that Sarah is on the other side of the door.

Slowly, the good doctor swings open the door, revealing a woman I barely recognize. She sits in a chair, chewing on her nails and shaking her leg with nervous anticipation. Her hair, which has always been well below her shoulders, is now chin length. It’s blond, but not our natural white color. It’s fried and frizzy from overprocessing. She must have been dying it weekly to cause that kind of damage. She’s entirely too thin, and her clothes hang off her body.

Tears immediately spring to my eyes as the guilt from not being there over the last few years twists a knife in my heart. Her eyes never rise to mine, and as my chin begins to quiver, Dr. Clark gently soothes a calming hand over my back.

“Please have a seat, Emma.” He guides me to the loveseat sitting beside Sarah’s chair.