The Secrets We Keep(13)

The door closed, blocking out the people in the hall, and the smell of coffee flooded the room. I looked up at the man, stared straight at him and prayed he would somehow make sense of this for me.

He stopped midstep and watched me. I prayed he would see the plea in my eyes, would say or do something to jar the simple recognition of who I was and what had happened back into place.

The man dropped his cup, black coffee covering his shoes as he stood there frozen for what seemed like an eternity. His shoulders shook, and it was then that I saw his tears. He didn’t do anything to try to hide them. I swear I saw a brief flash of confusion cross his face, as if he were trying to see something that wasn’t there, as if, like me, he was trying to fit what he’d been told into a box that wasn’t the right size.

“Mr. Lawton?” It was Alex’s worried tone that tore the man’s eyes from mine. “She seems confused, like she’s not sure who she is or why she’s here. I know it’s probably the pain meds they gave her—the doctor said she may be a bit hazy for a while—but she’s asking questions about…” He drifted off, the pity I heard in his voice overwhelming. “I don’t know what she remembers, and I thought … I didn’t want to tell her … I thought maybe you and Mrs. Lawton…”

The older man’s confusion disappeared, and he held up his hand for Alex to stop talking. He walked over to my bed and carefully sat down. His hand hovered for a second, trembling, before he wiped away my tears. “How’s my sweet girl?”

I leaned into his hand, wondering how a simple gesture could bring me so much solace. “Why am I here? What did I do?” The questions flew from my mouth, each one calling forth more unease, more uncertainty.

“Everything is fine, Maddy. Your mother and I promise you that everything is going to be fine.”

I winced at his words, the name Maddy tearing through me with such fury that I forgot to breathe. I would’ve gladly stayed that way, let the last breath of air leave my body as I withered away from the guilt that plagued me. A guilt I didn’t understand. “Where’s my sister?”

“She’s gone, sweetheart.” He tried hard to hide his pain, the glistening of tears I could see rimming his eyes, but I heard the hitch in his voice, the small shudder that accompanied those three heavy words.

My breath caught, setting off a whirl of high-pitched alarms. The first warning bell sounded, and Alex’s face went pale. Dad was there, his hands hovering over me looking for some unknown hurt to soothe. My mother came barreling into the room, a doctor and two nurses close on her heels. One nurse went for the IV, the other to the machine attached to the wall. The doctor went for me. Mom pushed him aside.

“I won’t lose you, Maddy.” Her hands were on either side of my face, her eyes so close to mine that I could see the specks of gold hidden in the green. “Look at me. Look at me, Maddy!”

I did. I opened my eyes wide and stared at her. Anger, determination, maybe fear … I don’t know what I saw, but the intensity of it speared me, kept my thoughts from lapsing into that dark space, and my eyes focused solely on her. “God already took one of my daughters. He can take anything else he wants from me, but not you, Maddy. Never you. Do you understand me? Now breathe!”

I did, not because I wanted to live, but because Mom told me to … She ordered me to. My breath hitched as I struggled to fill my lungs, and I gasped as the air burned its way down my throat.

The doctor circled around to the other side of the bed. He had my wrist in his hand as the nurse played with the dial on my IV. Mom ignored them all, completely focused on me.

“That’s it, Maddy,” Mom coaxed me, her calming tone encouraging me to live, her eyes demanding it. The pitch of the alarms slowly eased as I took one choking breath after another. Mom’s voice echoed the sound, her tone becoming more soothing with each passing second.

She pulled me into her arms. I couldn’t hear what she was whispering past the dark question swirling in my head. I fought against her hold and turned. Dad was standing by the door, his hand braced on the wall. He looked like he was about to collapse. Alex had—he’d crumpled to the ground at my father’s feet and was muttering something about letting Maddy live.

Everybody in this room adored me, had literally gone to pieces at the thought of me dying. But what about the other one? What about Ella? Who was with her when she died? Who was with her now?





8

It was quiet. The people gathered in the hallway had gone home yesterday afternoon, and the nurses who had been checking my vitals had eased back, coming in only when one of my alarms sounded, which was pretty much never. They wanted me to rest, or at least that is what they said, even offering to give me something to help me sleep. I didn’t want to close my eyes, never mind sleep, but I took the meds anyway, hoping they would take me to a place my dreams couldn’t reach. They didn’t. The nightmares were always there, lurking, waiting for me to close my eyes and let go.

I rolled my head to one side, the scent of bleach and stale coffee stinging my senses. I’d grown used to it, actually found it comforting. It kept me grounded.

Blinking long and hard, I resumed my careful study of the ceiling. It hadn’t changed in the three gruesomely long hours I’d been staring at it. It was white, a large beige streak running down the center where there obviously used to be a divider. They must have taken two separate rooms and mashed them into one. It hadn’t worked; the scar was still there for everyone to see.