Page 58

“Yeah, Daddy passed away four years ago. It was rough for all of us, but we’re doing better now.”
“How is it fair that I get to live that kind of sadness twice?” I ask out loud, even though I know no one has the answer to that. Rain covers my right hand with hers, silently letting me know that I’m not alone.
“What else can you tell me? Did I finish school?” I mean, I’m twenty-four now. If everything went according to plan, I graduated two years ago. Rain inhales a deep breath; whatever she’s going to say next is going to send me spinning—I can feel it.
“Actually, you took a break from school when Daddy passed away.”
“What? So what was I doing now? Did I go back to school?”
Another pause.
“Yeah, you transferred to another school,” Rain says. Is there more she can tell me? I need to know.
“To my dream school?” My sister doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move. I’m not even sure if she’s breathing anymore. “Rain?”
“Yeah, you were in Raleigh.” A sharp, stabbing pain hits my chest, and Rain notices immediately. She gets up and studies me with worried eyes.
“Why, Rain, why? You know how much I wanted to go to Wolfe University. Why do I get to live my dream, and then it’s taken away from me?” I start crying again, and this time, I don’t want to stop—life is cruel and has decided I’m its victim.
“Ruin, please don’t cry. Maybe when you’re feeling better, you can go back to Raleigh. Maybe by the time you’re walking again, you’ll have your memories back, and you’ll be able to go for the fall semester,” Rain tells me as she rubs my hand between hers. Comforting me. I give her a smile as I try to take deep breaths.
“But right now, please let me brush your teeth. I don’t know if the entire hospital smells like trout, but your mouth sure does.”
I throw my head back in laughter. Even though every single bone and muscle in my body aches, it’s good to laugh this hard after everything I’ve been through—and everything that lies ahead.
Chapter 25
Ruin MacAllister
It’s been a week since my casts came off, and the pain and discomfort are excruciating. Since I broke my shoulder, wrist, and ankle, not to mention a couple of ribs, the therapy has been very painful. I think it’d be easier if I was motivated to get better and go on with my life, but what life do I have to go back to? Not remembering the last four years feels like the ultimate slap in the face. I can’t go back to school because I don’t remember any ofthe things I’ve learned—I would have to start over. Right now, that’s the last thing I want to do.
The doctors thought I should stay in the hospital for the first four weeks of therapy to be more comfortable while getting my mobility back, but I was beyond tired of seeing the same four plain walls. I asked if I could start doing therapy remotely, and Dr. Davies decided to compromise—two more weeks here at the hospital, and then I could go home.
I’m heading home today, and it’s bittersweet. On one hand, I’m happy to finally be among my loved ones and with my things, but at the same time, I wonder if I’ll remember any of the things I have in my room as mine. I don’t even want to think how home will feel without Daddy being around.
“Hey, hey, Ruru,” Miles says in a chirpy tone as he comes into my room with a wheelchair in tow. I smile at him, and then River comes in next.
“Ready to go home?” River asks, so many emotions dancing in his eyes.
“River, I’m okay,” I lie, but he’s always carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and this was an accident. It was no one’s fault.
“River, cut it out. Remember what the doctor said,” Miles says as he smacks River on the head, and I laugh. Miles always has a way of cutting the tension in the most stressful situations.
“Right, let’s go home.”
They both help me out of bed, carefully easing me into the wheelchair. River grabs the few belongings I have here. I didn’t want them to bring anything from home—I wasn’t sure if I’d remember it or not.
“Now, don’t go allGrand Theft Auto, Miles. Be careful,” River warns.
But Miles, being Miles, speeds up, shouting, “What was that? I can’t hear you.”
I laugh all the way to the parking lot.
On the drive home, I tried to prepare myself for the wave of emotions I would feel. But the moment I set foot in the house, everything hit me all at once. The house is the same, yet it feels different. We have the same sectional sofa in the living room, the one we used to squeeze in for family movie night while eating popcorn. But now the pillows look fresh, and everything is tidy. We’ve grown up.
The same familiar smell of apples and leather lingers in the air, and I can picture Daddy clear as day. I close my eyes and go back to a time when he used to take his lunch break in the middle of the afternoon just to be around when we came home from school.
“Ruin, sweetie.” Mama rushes from the kitchen to greet me.