Page 45 of All That Lies Ahead

CHASE

Emily dies on Sunday.

I’m not in the room, but I know the second it happens. I wake in the middle of the night, sweat clinging to my skin despite the cool air circulating. At first, I’m disoriented, still stuck in whatever hellish nightmare that woke me.

Only, it’s not a nightmare.

I realize that the second Willow’s agonizing sobs pierce the air. I rip the sheet off and jump from the bed, tearing down the hall and into Emily’s room. Right after I enter, so does Matt.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I only stepped out for a moment. I—”

I turn away and tune him out. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I just want to know that Emily is okay.

I’m beside her in a single step, taking in her pale features and still frame. I grab for her shoulder, her name a whispered chant, a prayer that will never be answered.

Suddenly, the room is bursting in chaos, but I can’t hear anything other than the sharp ring that fills my ears. I briefly acknowledge the burning in my chest and the buzzing of adrenaline coursing through me before my entire body goes numb and the world slows.

I’m aware of my mom coming up beside me, pulling me from the bed in slow motion, allowing the nurse to step into my place. I’m aware of Addison floating into the room, her silk robe billowing in the air as she moves to Willow’s side. I’m aware of Matt checking his watch, one hand pressed to Emily’s neck.

I’m focused on its glass face, the seconds passing in half time. I can hear their ticks, like loud bursts of gunfire—TICK, TICK, TICK—each one tearing through me and leaving me a little less whole.

When he finally leaves her side, the world catches up to its usual pace. Cold, hard reality slaps me in the face, and the pain hits me all at once, knocking me to my knees and stealing the breath from my lungs.

Within moments, Addison’s in front of me, and I’m clinging to her. My sobs are so deep they knock around in my chest, reaching into the dark place where my heart once was and finding it hollow.

* * *

I’m frozen in the corner of the room while Matt prepares Emily’s body to be picked up. He keeps glancing up at me nervously, though he’s trying not to show it. At one point, he rises from his bent-over position and finally looks me in the eye. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears. I want to feel bad for him, but I can’t seem to draw out the emotion.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notify you. I thought we had a few more hours, and you hadn’t been getting enough sleep, so I was just trying togive you as much time as I could. I had only stepped out for a few moments to go to the restroom, but I... I robbed you guys from telling her goodbye. I’m so—”

“No.” I shake my head once—I know I do—but the movement is foreign. I’m not in my body. I can’t feel anything. I raise my hands and look at them, but they don’t feel attached to me. I drop them and look back up to Matt. “She had Willow by her side, and she couldn’t have asked for anything more.”

I say the words like I’m reciting a speech. They’re for Matt’s benefit, hoping they ease his worry. And they’re true. She had all she needed right beside her. She felt no pain. She held her baby while she took her last breath. Me being here wouldn’t have helped anything. There was nothing I could have done to make her transition better.

There was nothing I could have done...

Why, then, can I not leave this room?

Why am I rooted against this wall, unable to move, unable to feel? I just lost my best friend. I’ll never get to make fun of her again or laugh with her again or cry with her again. She’s gone forever, and I feel nothing.

My mind races, the only part of me that seems to be working. I look around her bedroom. As soon as Emily’s gone, we should take everything out. I’ll bag up her clothes and have Mom drop them off at Goodwill. Better yet, I’ll drive them into Denver. I don’t want to walk around town seeing people wear her clothes. Drake can help me load up her furniture and take it to the dump.

Then we’ll repaint. Something lighter. Emily loved the maroon on the walls, but it’s so dark. The room will look bigger with a more neutral color. Tan, maybe. Or beige. Are they the same color?

I look down at myself. I’m in nothing but sleep shorts. I try to wiggle my toes, but there’s a disconnect. I focus harder, staring down at them, willing them to move. They do, just slightly, and I take a deep breath.

This can’t be normal. I still feel nothing.

Am I dead too? No, Matt just talked to me and I answered him. I hadn’t imagined that. It was real.

I slowly move my arm to my chest. My heart is beating hard against my palm. Why can’t I feel it inside me?

I close my eyes and lay my head back against the wall. I’m not sure how much time passes before the door opens. It feels like I’ve been standing here for hours, but it also feels like no time has passed. How is that possible?

A hand touches my arm, and I open my eyes.

Addison is standing beside me. Her hair is wild, and though her face is makeup free, I can see the dried tracks of tears. Her eyes are wide as she looks at me, and for the first time, I feel something.

She holds out her arm to me. “The people from the funeral home are here. I brought you a shirt.”

I stare at the fabric in her outstretched hand. I want to grab it, but suddenly the pain is slicing into me. I gasp for breath as the bones in my chest splinter and break. I rub at my skin, hard, trying to ease the ache as they puncture through my skin. Tingles spread throughout my limbs, like a swarm of tiny little fire ants are feasting on my flesh.

I scream and claw at my chest, my throat, my arms. Addison is grabbing for me. I see her mouth moving, but I can’t hear her over the pulsing in my head. Frantic, I look down.

There’s nothing there. My chest is whole. My arms are bare.

The pain is inside me.

I take another breath, and everything goes black.