Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits, #1)(70)

But my eyelids were heavy and so were my muscles. I could rest. For a few seconds. Yes, I could rest.

I gave in to the weight of my body, collapsing onto the glass-filled serenity of the floor. If I didn’t move, the glass could no longer shred me to pieces. I breathed with the slow steady rhythm of my heart and let my mind wander to other thoughts beyond pain and blood. Sleep. Yes. I needed sleep.

No! I forced my eyes open and blinked rapidly to focus. Edges of the clear glass now shone with red—blood. My blood.

“Daddy!” I whispered. Daddy should be here by now. I sent out a plea in my head, begging him to somehow hear me and know….

I focused on the door, but there was no way I could make it. Not now. My legs were dead to me—no control, no movement.

My arms. I could still move my arms, but the pain. “Oh, God!” The pain.

“I’m so sorry, Echo. I never should have let you stand up, but the pain will be over soon.” Ignoring the glass, my mother lay down beside me, settling her head on the floor inches from mine. Her wide, glazed-over eyes held a hint of concern.

“Don’t cry.” Her callused fingers wiped the tears off my face. “We’ll be with Aires soon and then there will be no more pain or sadness. Only joy and happiness and we’ll be able to paint— you and I—and Aires will be able to tinker with as many cars as he wants.”

I hardly recognized my own voice, hoarse and shaky. “I don’t want to die, Momma. Please, don’t let me die.”

“Shhh,” she cooed. “Don’t think of it as dying.” She yawned and her eyelids fluttered. “We’re going to sleep and when we wake, we’ll be with your brother again.”

She smiled and I sobbed, “Oh, God, Daddy.”

My stomach sank. I’d never see my dad again. My father, who was supposed to pick me up, my father, who I prayed over and over again would walk through that door as promised. Please, Daddy, please. I need you.

“I’ll tell you a story, just like I did when you were a baby. Cassandra had a beautiful daughter named Andromeda….”

I opened my eyes and blinked several times. Mrs. Collins stood in the door frame and Dr. Reed sat in the chair next to the sickbed. I kicked off the comforter. Sweat dripped down the side of my face. Blood hammered my head and my heart thrashed in the same rhythm. My skin stung as I peeled myself off the bed and my body felt light after experiencing the heaviness of the memory.

Cold air slapped me and disoriented my body and mind. I had fallen and shattered one of the stained glass windows my mother had propped in the living room, but why? Was it an accident? It couldn’t have been, because she seemed so calm and peaceful … resolved. But she’d apologized.

“Daddy,” I whispered. Tears stung my eyes and I immediately sought Mrs. Collins for an explanation. There had to be an explanation because he wouldn’t have left me there—never. My throat closed and swallowing wouldn’t open it up. “Where was he?”

Mrs. Collins said, “I think we’ve done enough for today.”

I waved my hand in the air, refusing that answer. “No. No. I remembered something and now it’s your turn.”

“I understand your frustration, but your mind needs to handle this slowly.”

A strange uneasiness clawed at my heart and everything within me twisted and dropped. A single word tore at my heart … betrayal. “Where was my father!”

From behind Mrs. Collins came my father’s voice. “I forgot to pick you up.”





NOAH


I wandered the hallways for twenty minutes. Echo had radiated nerves. I wanted to give her plenty of time to make it to the sickroom and be well underway before I attempted the office.

“Aires made me feel safe.” Echo’s voice carried to the front office. Dammit, Mrs. Collins had kept the door to the sickroom open. In theory, there would have been no need to close the door because the school should have been abandoned.

“Ashley.” I froze. Echo sounded drowsy. Part of me wanted to stay there and listen, but then I wouldn’t have a chance to find both of our answers.

My mother would sure be proud of me—breaking into my counselor’s office, though I reminded myself that her door hung wide open. I tried to shove away the guilt eating at my gut, but it faded the moment I saw my name poking out from underneath two other files.

I grabbed the folder and immediately flipped it to the page with my brothers’ information. On the back of one of the college brochures Mrs. Collins gave me, I copied their data, careful not to miss a single piece.

“Noah. What are you doing here?” Mr. Emerson scared the crap out of me, but I emptied all emotion from my face, discreetly closing my file before I spun around.

I held up my brochures. “College planning.” Might as well rack up some brownie points.

“Good.” He glanced back into the main office. “Good for you.”

“I don’t want to die, Momma. Please, don’t let me die.” Echo’s distressed voice vibrated down the hallway. I could hear the underlying terror. Both Mr. Emerson and I took a step toward the sickroom. Our simultaneous movements caught each other’s attention. She screamed, “Oh, God, Daddy!”

Mr. Emerson turned a weird shade of gray. “I think you should go.”

My heart beat faster. Muscles tense, I glared at Mr. Emerson, waiting for him to give me some sort of explanation for why the girl I loved was screaming his name in panic and desperation.