Page 53 of Somewhere Without You

Fifty

A faint beeping tugged at me, like a rope dragging slowly through water. Voices drifted everywhere—soft and distant, but I couldn’t make out the words. I tried to open my eyes, to speak, but nothing happened.

No. I left. I let go.

Didn’t I?

Panicking, I strained to move, to scream, to anchor myself to something real, but my body still felt far away.

Was I stuck?

The voices grew louder, but I still couldn’t tell who they belonged to. Did someone say my name?

My eyelids slowly fluttered open, and through a haze of grey, a shadow hovered above me. Light poured in around it, too bright at first, and then softening, like the world remembered how to make sense.

A face.

I knew that face. Even through the fog, I’d know it anywhere.

“Nurse? Can we get a nurse in here?”Katherine called out.

Footsteps approached, followed by a flurry of voices. A deep, burning ache flared through me when I tried to sit up.

Her fingers brushed softly across my forehead.“Try to relax. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Mom says hi,”I bit out, but my voice didn’t work right, just a dry rasp in the back of my throat.

Her eyes filled with tears.

And just like that, the space between slipped away.

I was here. I was real.

I was home.

Monitors beeped steadily beside me, each tone anchoring me a little more in the now.

I turned my head slightly, wincing at the pull of something. Tape? Tubes? My throat burned like I’d swallowed sand.

“How long. . .”I croaked, unsure if I even said it aloud.

My sister leaned in, her tear-lined face managing a small smile.“Three days. You’ve been out since the surgery.”

Surgery.

The word rang through me like an echo in an empty hall. Bits and pieces started stitching themselves together—Grans house, Madeline with a gun, Logan, the deafening silence that followed.

My fingers curled slightly, as if reaching for a memory I hadn’t fully caught.

“You’re safe now,”she said.“You made it.”

My gaze drifted to the window. The sun was rising, or maybe setting. It painted the room in shades of gold and lavender, colors too tender for pain. I let myself breathe it in. The moment. The light. The safety.

But beneath the surface, beneath the pain, the drugs, the sterile white noise of the hospital—a single thought began to stir. One I didn’t want to let in.

“Logan?”I rasped, searching the room. But he wasn’t there.

Katherine didn’t move. She just looked at me, her usually warm, sun-kissed complexion drained of all color. Her mouth opened, then closed again. What could she say?

Finally, she shook her head.“I’m so sorry.”

I already knew. I’d known the moment I saw him in that field.

But knowing didn’t soften the blow. My heart splintered under the weight of it, the shards lodging deep in my chest as a guttural sob ripped loose.

The kind that didn’t feel like it came from my lungs but from somewhere deeper, somewhere that had only ever belonged to him.

The pain in my chest didn’t compare to this. I bit down on it, welcomed it, let it blaze through me like fire as the truth of losing him soaked into my skin and settled in my bones.

Logan was gone.

And I didn’t know who I was without him.

Time passed in vague waves over the next few days. My body ached less now, but the heaviness hadn’t left. It clung to me like a second skin, thick with questions I hadn’t found the nerve to ask.

The bullet had torn through my chest, grazing my lung and missing my heart by a fraction.

The doctors said I was lucky. Everyone said that.

They used the word like it meant something.

But luck didn’t explain the shadow that still lingered at the edge of my thoughts, or the way I’d felt before I woke up, wandering in the space between. Truthfully, I didn’t want to come back.

Not without him.

A light knock sounded against the door.

“Come in,”I called, my voice a little stronger now, but still raw.

Katherine stepped into the room carrying a Starbucks cup like she stole it.

“I had to sneak past two orderlies and the nurses’ station,”she said with a wink.

I’d been at CAMC General for almost a week now, surviving on nothing but watery broth and bitter hospital coffee.

Once in a while, if the night nurse was feeling generous, she’d sneak me a muffin or a cafeteria cookie.

But this? This was nectar from the gods.

I savored the first sip like it might disappear if I wasn’t careful.

“Thank you,”I smiled, setting the cup gently on the tray beside me.“How’s Winston?”

“Missing you,”Katherine scooted her chair closer.“Danielle’s. . . unique. She wants to sage the house.”

I forced a pained laugh.“Gran would’ve loved her.”

Katherine’s gaze dropped to her cup.“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

We sat in silence, the soft shuffle of nurses and doctors outside filling the quiet. I didn’t tell Katherine about what I saw while I was out. And she didn’t ask. Part of me wanted to keep it to myself, to hold onto it. She probably wouldn’t have believed me anyway.

“Emily,”my sister’s voice trembled.“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should’ve. The truth is, I didn’t know how to be. I let things that weren’t worth my anger take over, and I. . .”Her shoulders slumped.“I ran away. From Gran. From you. From myself.”

I didn’t know what to say. The words were stuck in my throat, tangled with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid for so long.

“I was angry too,”I admitted finally.“I didn’t know how to deal with it either. And maybe that’s why I pushed everyone away.”

Katherine’s eyes lifted, her expression raw.“I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I should’ve been here. I should’ve been the one helping you pick up the pieces.”

I shook my head.“We were both lost, Kat. I can’t blame you for that. I don’t blame you for that.”

There was a long pause, the kind that stretched between us like a thin thread. Finally, Katherine reached across the bed, her hand shaking slightly as it rested on mine.

“I’m here now,”she whispered, her voice thick with regret.“And I’m not going anywhere.”

I curled my fingers in hers, the memory of what our mother had said while I was wandering, echoed in my mind.

You’re not meant to stay here.

“Gran might have raised us, but you were always the one who kept us together,”I said.

“You had to grow up too soon, long before you were ready. Now you’re a mother, a wife, and you’ve built a beautiful life, a beautiful family.

You’ll always be my sister, Katherine, but I grew up too.

It’s not your responsibility to take care of me anymore. ”

Katherine’s eyes softened, a hint of vulnerability flashing across her face. She opened her mouth, then paused, as if weighing her words carefully.

“I never wanted to stop taking care of you,”she said, struggling to keep her composure.“It’s just. . . I didn’t know how to help without making everything worse.”

My thumb brushed gently over her knuckles.“You didn’t make anything worse. We both have our own paths now. But I need you to know I’m okay. I’m stronger than I was before, and I can stand on my own now.”

She let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly.“I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting to protect you. But I get it, Em. You’re not the same girl I left behind. Maybe I’m not the same either.”

“Good,”I said with a soft smile, my heart lifting a little.“We’re both finding our way.”

A gentle knock at the door broke the silence, pulling our attention toward it. A petite nurse in pale blue scrubs stepped inside, her eyes immediately zeroing in on the Starbucks cup.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,”she said with a playful smirk, making her way between me and Katherine.“How are we feeling today?”

“Fantastic,”I said, wincing as I tried to sit up straighter.“Never better.”

She glanced at the monitor beside my bed.“Vitals look good,”she said, scrolling through the data.“Your doctor will be in to see you at some point today. If he likes what he sees, you should be cleared to go home in a few days.”

A silence settled between us, broken only by the rapid tapping of her fingers against the keyboard.

After a moment, she glanced up again.“There are two detectives here to speak with you. They’ve been lingering at the nurse’s desk all morning. It’s up to you. If you want to meet with them, I can let them in. Otherwise, I can tell them to come back later.”

I hesitated.“What do you think?”I asked, looking to Katherine for guidance.

She gave a small shrug.“It’s your choice. You don’t need me to help you make it.”

I gave a brief nod to the nurse, who was still standing nearby.

Katherine flashed me a reassuring smile as she made her way to the door.“I’ll be right here,”she promised—then quietly stepped away, not because she needed to, but because she knew I was finally ready to stand on my own.