“She is,” she insists, her voice trembling. “She knows you’ve moved on, and I’ve barely visited since we left for River Falls. She thinks we’ve let go of her.” Her head bows, resting against Molly’s unmoving hand as her shoulders shake.
My chest tightens as I watch her. I want to tell her she’s wrong, but maybe she’s not. Molly has held on for so longwithout any promise that things would ever change. If she can hear us, maybe hearing about Ash and me was too much. Maybe her body is tired. Maybe her heart is too.
And maybe… maybe this is my fault.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ben
The longer I sit at Molly’s bedside, the heavier the guilt presses down on me.
Logically, I know it’s the infection that’s draining the life from her, that her body is slowly shutting down because of it, but I can’t push Laney’s words from my mind. Molly needed every ounce of strength she had left, and telling her about Ash and me on Thursday, without knowing the infection was already ravaging her body, feels like the cruelest mistake I could have made.
Laney’s barely said a word in the hours we’ve been here, and since Olivia left, the silence between us feels endless.I can’t shake the thought that she’s blaming me for this. That if I hadn’t told Molly about Ash, maybe things would be different. She hasn’t said it, but I can feel it lingering in the space between us.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the faint buzz of my phone vibrating in my pocket. I slip it out, my chest tightening when Isee Ash’s name on the screen. A part of me feels like I have no right to be looking at it, not here with Molly lying in this bed, fighting for her life, but I can’t deny how much I ache to hear Ash’s voice, even for a moment.
When I glance up, I find Laney watching me quietly.
“Who is it?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Ash.”
She doesn’t respond, just keeps her gaze steady on mine. The intensity of it makes me slide my phone back into my pocket without answering.
“You’re not going to call her?” she asks after a long moment, surprise threading through her tone.
I shake my head. “I’ll talk to her later.”
Before either of us can say anything else, there’s a soft knock at the door. I look up as Kirsten steps inside.
“Aunt Kirsten,” Laney breathes. She’s on her feet in an instant, crossing the room and throwing herself into her arms.
Kirsten wraps Laney up tightly, holding her as she cries against her shoulder. Over Laney’s head, Kirsten’s eyes meet mine, and she gives me a small, sad smile. I manage one in return.
When Laney finally eases back, I step forward and pull Kirsten into a hug of my own.
“Thank you for coming,” I murmur.
“Of course,” she says quietly, her voice trembling. “How is she?”
I shake my head. “No change. She’s not responding to the antibiotics.”
Kirsten sighs heavily and walks to Molly’s bedside. She leans in, brushing a gentle hand over Molly’s arm.
“Come on, Mol,” she whispers. “You’ve got to keep fighting, girl.”
But there’s no sign Molly can hear her. No sign at all.
Kirsten pulls a chair close, sitting beside Laney and slipping her hand into hers.
“Is Bennett not here?” Kirsten asks, glancing at me.
“No. He’s overseas on business. He’s trying to get back…” I trail off.
“She’s going to die, isn’t she?” Laney asks, her voice raw and broken.
Kirsten’s eyes find mine, and the look she gives me says everything I don’t want to hear.
