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I know I should go to her, that I should try to comfort her, but she killed our parents.
“Keep talking,” this from Seth. His arms are crossed over his chest too, and he looks intimidating as hell.
“It was a dream, right, Dawn? Tell me it was a dream.”
“What happened next?” I ask, calmer than I feel.
“The car swerved. There was yelling, and then we were flipping.” She covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, God.”
“You killed them.”
Tears are now streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t want to go. I don’t need to go. I just wanted out of the car. I didn’t kill them,” she says quietly. “I just wanted out. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t know they would try to stop me. I didn’t know we would wreck.”
“Do you hear yourself, Destiny? You caused an accident that killed our parents because all you wanted was your next fix. Then you skipped from the hospital. The police need to talk to you, question you. You might not have killed them, but your actions….” I let my voice trail off. We all know what I mean.
“Please,” she pleads. “I didn’t mean to do it. I’m so sorry. It was just a dream.” She stands up and rushes to the house. I don’t move as I watch her pound on the front door, screaming for our parents to open up. When the door doesn’t open, she comes back to where we’re still standing, watching her unravel.
“You have two choices.” My voice is calm as I stare at my little sister. We have the same hazel eyes and blonde hair. She’s taller like my dad, where I’m short like my mom. She just stares at me, her body void of all emotion. “You can check yourself into rehab, and complete the program, or you can leave. If I were you, I’d be looking over my shoulder. They want to talk to you, so they’re going to be looking.”
“You don’t get to make the decision for me,” she bites back.
“I know that. That’s why you get to choose. If you leave, don’t come back.” My chest feels like it’s cracking wide open as I say the words, but it’s time for some tough love. She killed our parents. I can’t help her if she’s not willing to help herself.
“You’re such a bitch. You were always the favorite. Going to college, never getting into trouble. You were a suck-up.”
“It’s called being responsible. You should try it sometime.”
“I don’t need this, and I don’t need you.” She stumbles down the driveway and disappears down the street.
I turn in Mark’s arms. “Can I use your phone?”
He reaches into his pocket and hands it to me. I swipe the screen and, my hands are shaking as I dial the local police station. A number I know by heart having called one too many times looking for my sister. Hoping she got picked up somewhere and was there, safe. My efforts were fruitless; she was never there, but I still called every few days until I realized she was never going to be there. Not long after that, Kendall and I moved to Jackson. I needed a change. “Hi, my name is Dawn Miller.” I rattle off my address. “My sister.” I swallow hard. “Destiny Miller. She’s an addict and walking the street.” I give them my parents’ address and listen to the officer tell me that they’ll dispatch someone. “Thank you,” I say, ending the call. I bury my face in his chest and cry. I cry for my parents, for my sister, and for me. I allow myself the time to expel it all in the safety of his arms.
“Dawn.” His voice cracks. Pulling away, I look up to see tears swimming in his eyes. “What can I do?” he asks tenderly, holding me close.
“I’m sorry.” I try to step away, but his grip is firm. “I’m trying not to fall apart.”
“Stop.” He rests his forehead against mine. “Feel, baby. Let it all out, and when you fall, I’ll be here to catch you.”
My breath shudders in my chest as I grip his shirt. “I-I don’t know if I can go in there.”
“You don’t have to,” he tells me. “But if you do, I’ll be right there with you.”
“We all will,” Kendall adds.
“Do you have a key?” Seth asks.
“Not with me, but there’s one under the rock. That’s what Destiny was trying to get, but she was too messed up to make it happen.”
Seth makes his way to the front porch and easily snags the key from under the rock. “You tell me when, D.” He holds the key up for me to see.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to start.” The pressure on my shoulders is the weight of an elephant. I’m overwhelmed, my heart is broken, and I’m at a loss for how to handle any of it.
“We need to choose a funeral home,” Mark says woefully. “That’s what the hospital told me.”
“Okay. There’s one here in town. That’s where we—” I swallow the lump in my throat. “My grandparents,” I finally say. “That’s where—” I stop because my tears are thick.
“I’ll take care of it,” Mark assures me.
I nod, knowing if he says he’ll take care of it, that he’s going to do it. I feel bad to be leaning on him, on all of them so much, but right now, I need them. I need him. I’m at a loss as to what needs to be done, or how to handle it.
My parents are dead, and my sister, well, she might as well be.
Chapter Six
Mark
The last five days have been challenging and emotional. We’ve all rallied around Dawn, trying to help her and give her our support. Try is the keyword. We don’t know what she needs, and honestly, neither does she.
After that first night, the four of us drove home. Dawn and I grabbed some clothes and headed back to her parents’ place. Kendall and Seth stayed behind. They offered to come back with us, but Dawn declined. As for me, I didn’t give her the option to decline. I wasn’t leaving her side. I haven’t since that night.
On our way back that first day, Dawn got a phone call from the local police. They picked her sister up the night before, thanks to her anonymous tip. They were holding her for a few days until a bed opened up at a rehab facility. They were mandating a thirty-day stay, which Dawn says she’s done multiple times. They can’t charge her for the accident, even though we all know she caused it. Her actions caused the reactions in the car that night, leading to the death of their parents. However, she wasn’t found directly responsible.
Together, we visited the funeral home to make the final arrangements and went through mountains of paperwork, trying to work out finances. Luckily for us, her parents were very organized and prepared for this type of event. Life insurance policies were in place, burials paid for, and even the headstones and the burial plots had been picked out. Those plans were accompanied with a letter, addressed to Dawn.
The gist of the letter was that her parents didn’t want to burden her with the details knowing that it would all fall on her shoulders. Sentiments of love, and we’re sorry you’re reading this. It was a tearful evening that night, but something about finding that letter lifted some of the weight she’s been carrying on her shoulders. Almost as if it gave her closure.
The following two days we went through photo albums as Dawn walked me down memory lane. There was laughter and lots of tears. Each night I’ve held her in my arms, hoping that my love for her will be enough. I knew I cared about her, but all of this, it’s made me realize what she truly means to me. I don’t want to think about my life without her in it. I haven’t told her, though. Now’s not the time, but I will.
Just not today.
Today we lay her parents to rest. As I stand here beside two closed caskets, my hand alternates from resting on the small of her back to resting on her shoulder. I don’t know what else to do but to offer her my silent support. It’s just the two of us standing up here. The realization hits me that Destiny is really all she has left. Both sets of grandparents have passed, and her mom was an only child. Her dad had an older brother who was never married and passed away four years ago from a massive heart attack.
I’m all she has.
Well, and the guys and their wives, and the kids, and our families, but if we’re talking som
eone who’s just hers, other than her sister, who’s too far gone to be counted, it’s just me. I’m hers.
“You doing okay?” I whisper in her ear. The line of people who are here to pay their respects is long and winding, and I don’t see an end in sight anytime soon.
“What time is it?” she asks softly before addressing the next guest. A man with graying hair who says he worked with her father. He tells her how great of a man he was and how much he’ll be missed.
“Ten thirty.”
“Okay.” She exhales slowly. “Thirty more minutes.” She opted to have the visitation and the funeral on the same day. She knew it was going to be rough so she just wanted to get it over with.
I’ve been to funerals before, but never really thought much about them until now. I get it, you want to pay your respects, but do you think she doesn’t know the kind of man he was? That he’ll be missed? I get it, no one ever knows what to say in these situations, but leaving it at “I’m sorry for your loss” is sufficient.
“It’s a shame your sister isn’t here,” a lady, probably in her late fifties if I would have to guess, says as she reaches us. “Those drugs she’s on, I tell you, your mother would be turning over in her grave.”
Dawn stiffens next to me, and I’ve had about all I can handle. “Enough.” My voice is quiet yet stern and the look I’m giving the woman could melt ice. “We’re here to pay respects to Mr. and Mrs. Miller. If you have nothing nice to say, I advise you to keep it to yourself and move on.” I wrap my arm around Dawn’s waist.
“Why, I never,” she huffs and walks off.
Before the next person can step up, Dawn turns and looks up at me. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Marcus Adams, but I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers as her eyes well with tears.
“Just being you,” I say, leaning down and pressing my lips against her temple. I want to tell her that she has it all wrong, that I’m the lucky one. Now’s not the time.
Turning her attention back to the many people who are here to say goodbye, she accepts more hugs, shakes more hands, and nods more times than I can count. I’m introduced to all of them as her boyfriend, and that title doesn’t seem significant enough. Husband sounds better. I’m going to have to work on that.
