Falling into Place(60)

Things just weren’t that simple.

In that moment, everything clicked.

And Liz Emerson closed her eyes.



CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO


The Waiting Room Again


The nurses hurry back to Liz’s room. Monica comes over and puts her arms around Kennie, and Julia holds her hand as though she never means to let go.

The rest of them watch. They wait for an ending. They wait for a world where Liz Emerson does not exist.

Jake Derrick sits quietly in a corner, his head in his hands. Of course, he had been sitting like that ever since the hot nurse had left and people had started pointing at his black eye, but when the news about Liz came, his head dropped a little lower.

Matthew Derringer goes outside and reorders the flowers he had canceled earlier.

Liam sits frozen, steam drifting up from his coffee.

Then, suddenly, Kennie raises her head. Her hair is twisted and tangled around her shoulders, her cheeks are black from her mascara, her eyes are red. She scans the room and finds Liam, and she says his name.

Liam turns his head warily, the entire room watching him.

Kennie doesn’t break his gaze.

After a small eternity, Liam gets slowly to his feet. He takes silent, measured steps to Kennie, and for a moment he only looks at her, this small girl who has the potential to be so cruel but holds just as much sadness as he does.

He takes her hand.

Julia takes his other hand. He glances at her, and she manages a very small smile through her tears. Monica gives him a look that makes him forget how awkward he feels to be holding hands with two of the most popular girls in their grade.

They stand there in that tight, bizarre circle, all thinking the same thing.

If she’s determined to pull through this, she will.






EPILOGUE


I sit behind the brown couch where she left me, holding snapshots.

Her, pretending to fly, her arms wide as she runs through the park, my hand in hers. The fairy dust she tossed over me lifts my feet ever so slightly off the ground.

Her, making snow angels. Two of them, so that we can lie side by side, our wings touching.

Her, chasing me through the backyard, the summer grass warm beneath our bare feet.

Her, forgetting.

Me, watching all of the years go by.

Then the silence of the big house is broken by the crunch of car tires pulling into the driveway. I hear the garage door open with a mechanical whir, and then a turning lock.

“Careful,” Monica says. “Watch your crutches.”

The answer is an automatic one. “I’m fine, Mom.”

There is a pause, a small silence.

Then Monica says, “Honey. Do you need help?”

Another pause.

Then, very, very quietly, Liz Emerson says one word.

“Yes.”