Everything You Are(80)

“But I won’t run off anymore,” Allie pleads. “It was all Ethan’s idea . . .” Her face goes slack and she lets out a little cry. “I’m a horrible person. I didn’t even ask. Is he okay? Can I talk to him?”

“He’s been transferred to Harborview,” Tom says quietly. “He’s on a breathing machine, and they don’t know yet if he’ll recover. But he’s still alive, and that’s good news.”

Allie starts to cry.

Helpless anger simmers in Braden’s belly. He wants to shield her from all of this. Carry her somewhere far away from the harsh realities she’s facing. “This isn’t exactly helpful,” he says. “Could it maybe wait until she’s stronger?”

“We’re not discussing anything she’s not going to be feeling within the next few days, Mr. Healey, and we’re doing it here where she’s safe. Avoiding talking about things is much more dangerous than having conversations.” Tom levels an assessing gaze at Braden. “Are you an avoider, Mr. Healey?”

Braden takes a breath, struggles to keep his tone level. “This isn’t about me—”

“I’m afraid it’s very much about you, sir. Suicide always involves family dynamics. How could it not? Professionally, what I would suggest is that Allie be voluntarily admitted to the psych unit, rather than detained. That way you keep the legal system out of her treatment.”

“I am not volunteering for that!” Allie declares.

“You’re underage,” Tom says gently. “In your case, your father would be the one to voluntarily sign you in.”

“I’m seventeen years old! He doesn’t get to decide anything for me!”

“Actually, he does. How about it, Mr. Healey? Get her urgent help, keep her safe, avoid the legal system getting involved in her treatment.”

Braden feels the room closing in. This is how he felt the night Mitch died. Trapped. Horrified by a choice that is not a choice. Allie’s safety is of the utmost importance. But the small, fragile trust that has just begun to grow between them with the conversation they’ve just had, this is also of the utmost importance, not just for him but for her. Maybe it, too, is connected to her safety.

“If you do this, I will never forgive you,” Allie says. “Never.”

“And if you don’t?” Tom asks. “If you don’t and she tries again, and succeeds, will you forgive yourself?”

Braden has never forgiven himself for anything. Not for the ruin of his marriage. Not for Mitch’s death. Not for the alcohol, or leaving his kids, or the accident that killed Lilian and Trey. If something happens now, to Allie . . .

“Am I interrupting?”

In that moment, Phee looks to Braden like an angel in a flannel shirt and faded jeans, smelling of French fries and bacon, a bulging McDonald’s bag in her hand.

“They’re trying to put me in the insane asylum,” Allie says.

Tom gets to his feet. “We are having an important meeting, if you would excuse us. We won’t be much longer.”

“Phee is family,” Braden says. “She should be here.” The words don’t feel like a lie. Phee is the one person in the world who understands what is happening here. The only person he trusts to help him with this impossible choice.

“The more support Allie has, the better,” Tom says. “Come on in, then. Maybe one of the nurses could find us another chair?”

“I’ll stand.” She crosses the room and stops behind Braden’s chair, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder. He covers it with one of his own. “You look better,” she says to Allie.

“Well, I’m not! This is so incredibly unfair!”

“What’s unfair about it?” Tom asks. “Tell me. I want to hear it, Allie.”

“I don’t even want to die! I told you it was all Ethan’s idea.”

“But you went along with it.”

“Everything was so utterly fucked up. I didn’t see the point. And then, when it was too late . . .” The tears begin sliding down her cheeks again, and her sob destroys whatever is left of Braden’s heart. “When it was too late, I realized what I was doing was all . . . He lied to me!”

“Who? Your father?” Tom asks.

“No! Ethan. He had this whole story about death that was all a lie. He lied to get me there, because he didn’t want to die alone. He lied when he threw away my phone. He even lied about his dad killing himself. He spun this whole weird reality story that made death seem like the only option. And when I figured that out, I thought . . . I thought if I was going to die, I at least wanted my death to be true. I tried to call for help, only my fingers wouldn’t work and I dropped the phone . . .” Her voice breaks, and she buries her face in her knees and sobs.

Braden feels the tears on his own face now. Phee’s hand tightens on his shoulder. There are no words for the heartbreak and guilt and love he feels for this woman-child. She’s been hurt so much already, but she’s so incredibly strong.

“I don’t think the psych unit is the right place for her,” he says when he can get his voice under control. “Please. I’ll schedule her with a counselor. I’ll watch her.”

“You have to sleep sometime,” Tom says. “I know this is hard, but safety—”