Letters to the Lost

Rev leans in. His tone is low, matching mine. “Why?”


“I found her throwing up after Homecoming.” My voice almost wavers. My eyes feel wet, and I keep them locked on the carpeting.

He’s quiet for a moment. “That was only Friday. It could be the flu.”

I shake my head. “It wasn’t like that. And she was fine yesterday.” I freeze, and a tear slips down my cheek. I hastily swipe it away. “No. She wasn’t fine yesterday. She was taking a nap. In the middle of the day.”

Then I remember something else. Kristin’s comment at dinner before Homecoming, asking if Mom was feeling better. “Kristin said she was sick last weekend, too.”

Rev doesn’t say anything to that. He remembers the comment.

Maybe Mom’s been sick for a while.

Every moment is meaningful. Sometimes Rev’s words feel like a premonition when I play them back in my head.

Each moment I sit out here, I’m not with her.

Rev’s phone vibrates, and I’m sitting close enough that I can hear it. He fishes it out of his pocket and checks the screen. “Mom will be here in a minute. Juliet is staying with Babydoll until Dad gets home.”

Kristin is coming. I don’t know why, but that makes this feel more serious.

I can’t stop the next tear that rolls down my face. I drag my sleeve across my cheek and inhale a jagged breath.

She could have been dying all this time. She could be dying right now, and I don’t even know it because Alan has turned his phone off.

Rage is a new pressure in my chest, but I prefer it to the fear. I understand anger, and I welcome it, even as it crawls across my back to dig into my shoulders.

I want to kill him.

And just like that, as if my murderous thoughts summoned him, Alan walks through the double doors and appears in the waiting room. He looks tense and exhausted and afraid.

Just like me, really. It should dial back my anger, but it doesn’t.

I want to put him through the wall.

“Alan.” My voice could cut steel, and I’m halfway across the room before he registers that I’m barreling down on him. “Where is she? What’s going on?”

“Keep your voice down.” He glances between me and Rev and looks surprised that we’re here.

“Where is she?” My fists are clenched so hard that my nails are leaving little half-moons on my palms. “I want to see her.”

“Easy,” Rev murmurs beside me.

“You can’t.” Alan turns weary eyes to me. “She’s—”

“You’ve been with her for two hours,” I growl. “I want to see her.”

Frustration clouds his expression. “I told you not to come here, Declan. This is very personal, and it’s between your mother and me right—”

I shove him.

No, shove doesn’t do the movement justice. Alan is lucky there’s a wall behind him, because he slams into that instead of slamming into the floor.

Rev grabs me, so I can’t go after him.

Alan’s hands are in fists, and he’s going to come after me, though. I’m ready for it. I welcome it. There’s fire in his eyes, and I know he’s been wanting to hit me for months.

He doesn’t move, though. He stands there, breathing hard, glaring at me. The way Rev has a shoulder against me suddenly feels like overkill.

Every pair of eyes in the waiting room is on us. A nurse behind the desk is on the phone, and I can hear her speaking quickly. “. . . may have an incident in the ER waiting room.”

Juliet’s words smack me in the face. You’re pretty confrontational.

“Rev.” My voice sounds like I’ve been chewing gravel. My eyes are locked on Alan. “Let me go.”

He doesn’t. “You’re still on probation.”

“I know,” I grit out. “I’m fine.”

“Grow up,” Alan snaps. “Your mother doesn’t need this. Not now.”

Somehow all the fight has drained out of me, and I twist free of Rev’s hold. I’m a heartbeat away from slamming through the double doors myself, and security be damned. Or maybe I’m a heartbeat away from curling up in a ball on the floor.

“Rev.” Kristin appears beside us, concerned eyes going between me and Alan. “What’s going on?”

“We don’t know,” Rev says. He’s glaring at Alan, too. “We can’t get anyone to tell us anything.”

Alan looks at Kristin, and he seems relieved to have another adult here to help with the delinquents. “Can you take them home? I’m going to spend the night with Abby.”

“Sure,” she says, glancing at me and Rev and then back at him. “Is everything all right?”

I fight very hard to hold still. There’s a security guard by the desk now, and while he hasn’t approached us, it’s pretty obvious he’s here to make sure no one gets rowdy. “I’m not going home until you tell me what’s going on, Alan.”

A nurse comes through the double doors behind him with an iPad in a thick case. “Mr. Bradford, we’re taking her upstairs now. An obstetrics nurse will meet you on the seventh floor—”

Kristin gasps. She puts a hand over her mouth. “Alan.”

Rev and I both look at her. I don’t know what that gasp means, but it’s something big. The floor drops out from beneath me. “What?” I demand. Now I can’t keep the fear out of my voice. “What’s an obstetrics nurse? Is it cancer?” My voice breaks. “Is she sick? Can I see her?”

“No, Declan. Honey.” Kristin takes my hand and pats it like I’m six years old. “Obstetrics is for pregnancy.” She doesn’t let go of my hand, but she turns to Alan. “Is Abby all right?”

I can’t move. I can’t breathe. My hand goes slick in Kristin’s.

Pregnancy.

Alan is nodding. “She’s very dehydrated. They’ve put her on an IV. The baby is fine.”

The baby.

The baby.

My mother is going to have a baby.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


From: The Dark <[email protected]> To: Cemetery Girl <[email protected]> Date: Monday, October 7 10:22:44 PM

Subject: The whole story, part 2

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