“Ella,” Alex said, concern replacing the relief I’d seen in his eyes a moment earlier. “Your sister’s name was Ella.”
It sounded so simple, so perfectly right. “Ella.”
“Maddy?” Alex was standing now, staring at me, waiting for me to do or say something. Problem was, I had no idea what that was. “Do you know who I am?”
I did, but not because I felt connected or drawn to him, rather because it was written on the card he’d shown me. Fear clawed its way through my system, the unnerving sensation that something was off … that I was off. It hit me, the realization that my entire knowledge base consisted of those two facts and nothing more. I knew who he was and who I was, but nothing more.
“You’re Alex,” I said as I stared down at his hand. It was locked in mine, his thumb gently tracing the lines of my veins. The touch was tender, soft, like the look in his eyes. Something you wouldn’t do to someone you didn’t know … really know. “And you’re my boyfriend, right?”
My expression must have shifted because his next words quickly tumbled out as if he was searching for the safe thing to say. “Everything’s going to be okay, Maddy. You’re gonna be fine. I’m gonna get your parents. They’re outside in the hall, talking to your doctor.”
“No, wait. Where’s the other girl? My sister…” I had to pause, swallow down my pain to get those simple words out. “Where’s Ella?”
I watched the lines of his face smooth out, his calm, soothing tone forced. “It’s gonna be okay, Maddy. None of this is your fault.”
My fault? “What? What do you mean my fault?”
He shook his head. The fact that he wouldn’t explain was answer enough.
The brief silence that followed was all-consuming, and I slowly started to piece things together. I didn’t hear the cry that escaped my throat, my mind too trapped in the shattering image of that girl … of Ella in the seat next to me, her blue eyes staring lifelessly at me as they pried her out of the car.
“Don’t cry. Please, Maddy, don’t cry. Nobody blames you. The roads were wet and the car slid. There was nothing you could do to stop it.”
He reached out to me, and I moved back. “No! Don’t touch me.” I didn’t want to be comforted or held. I wanted him to tell me what had happened, why I couldn’t remember anything, anything except that girl’s dead eyes.
7
Alex left me there sobbing, unable to form a coherent sentence. I saw the terror in his eyes when he finally got up and scrambled for the door. He had begged me to calm down, promised me everything would be fine. He was wrong, so wrong. Nothing would ever be fine again.
If what he was slowly trying to ease me into realizing was true, then the girl next to me in the car, the one I killed, was my own sister. Nothing … not the terrifying inability to remember who I was, not even the pain that was lancing through my head could compete with that dark truth.
“She’s awake,” I heard him say. The sound in the hall was deafening. Cheers mingled with cries. I saw a girl make for my door. I couldn’t pull her name from the tattered recesses of my mind. Didn’t need to because the swell of emotion that came from a glimpse of her face was more than enough. Hatred clawed at me, a complete and bone-deep hatred solely directed at her. Thankfully, Alex stopped her at the door and gently eased her aside to let someone in.
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?