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Prologue
Piper
“Come on! Come on!” I shout at the gridlock ahead, banging on my steering wheel with all my might as if it would intimidate the cars in front of me from moving any faster.
Hot tears blur my vision as I curse the early morning sun for mocking my pain by daring to shine ever so brightly, completely uncaring about the heartbreaking news I received mere minutes ago. Surrounded by a sea of brake lights and trapped in rush-hour traffic, my stomach churns with dread.
The nurse’s sympathetic voice still echoes in my head, while the memory of her words sends an unwelcome chill down my spine.
‘There’s been a car accident.’
‘It is imperative that his next of kin come to Massachusetts General Hospital right away.’
‘The doctors are doing everything they can, but…‘
I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning a ghostly shade of white as my imagination runs rampant. I imagine the sound of his heartbeat becoming dangerously faint as it threatens to drift away into the unknown. I envision complete strangers in their crisp white coats and pale blue scrubs, cocooning around a stretcher in the emergency room, just waiting for the familiar sound of a flat line.
My heart sinks at the terrifying notion that every minute that ticks by, might be another he doesn’t have.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Each passing moment feels like an eternity, making the weight of the crippling fear press down on my chest with such unbearable force that it physically hurts me to breathe.
The honking of impatient drivers and the distant blaring of sirens trying to navigate through this hellish traffic only adds to my anxiety.
I won’t be any good to him like this.
I won’t be any good to anyone like this.
Get it together, Piper.
For him, you have to get it the fuck together.
No matter how much it hurts me, I try to take a deep breath while doing my best to focus on the other sounds playing in the background of my beloved city, hoping they can pull me out of my downward-spiraling thoughts.
There’s a whoosh of a bus pulling up to a stop, letting its passengers off on their way to work. I watch a few pedestrians talk louder into their phones as they walk on the busy sidewalk that bypasses the construction site, the deafening sounds of jackhammers, drills, and other heavy machinery making it difficult for them to be heard. Street vendors are busy at work, selling everything from coffee to newspapers, while other street hustlers hawk their newest wares and stolen goods. And even through all those manic, man-made noises, I can still hear birds chirping their song, accompanied by the tune of rustling leaves coming from a nearby park.
The sounds of the city are a diverse mix of noises that come together to create this unique auditory landscape that most Bostonians have become accustomed to on a daily basis. But despite it appearing like it’s just another ordinary spring day, I know for a fact that it’ll be one I’ll never forget.
Not if he di—
Don’t say it!
Don’t even think it!
Get your shit together, Piper!
Just get it the fuck together!
“Fuck!” I shout in hysterics, banging my forehead repeatedly on the steering wheel.
This can’t be happening.
Not now.
