A lump forms in my throat and I look away.
“Hey, breathe, okay?” Ben’s fingers skim the back of my arm, and I realize it’s trembling—thatI’mtrembling—my entire body shaking. Twin trails of warmth run down my cheeks and drip from my chin.
I sniff and take a deep, wet breath as I shake my head. “I can’t do this, Ben.” My vision blurs. Tears stain my shirt and patter onto my jeans. I don’t know how I have any left at this point. I’ve cried an entire ocean’s worth over the last two years.
“Bailey, look at me.”
When I don’t, he reaches across the console, places his fingertips beneath my chin, and tilts my gaze toward his. His eyes are glassy pink. “You’ve never fully processed what happened. You stopped going to therapy. You quit your job and shut everyone out. You shutmeout.” He tightens his lips and looks away for a moment. When he looks back again, his voice is thick. “You were about to … Fuck, Bailey. You were about to kill yourself.”
“I wish you would’ve let me,” I whisper.
He winces. “How can you say that?”
I stare down at the backs of my hands and bite my lip. “Because I should have gone with them.”
“But you didn’t. You survived for a reason.”
“Which is what?” I snap, suddenly angry. Anytime anyone tries to paint the wreck in a positive light, I see red. “Mom and Dad are gone! Ethan and Noah are gone! I wake up every single morning without any idea how I’ll make it through the day. I’m not even living anymore, Ben. I’m just existing. I don’t have anything left to live for.”
“You have me.”
The words slide into me like a knife. I gaze at him. His cheeks arewet. He’s no longer trying to hold back his tears. He went through so much after his fall. It took fifteen surgeries to put him back together. He had to learn to talk again, couldn’t eat, dress, or bathe himself without help for so long. He didn’t take a single step for months, didn’t walk on his own for a year. When faced with challenges like his, most people would have given up. But not Ben. Giving up isn’t in his vocabulary. I’ve been so selfish, so lost in my pain, I’ve forgotten my brother has plenty of his own. He’s right. If I can’t live for myself anymore, I can at least try to live for him.
“Okay, fine,” I say. “Let’s go.”
With that, I wipe my eyes and get out of the car.
Chapter 21
GRANT
The memory of Avery’s voice fills my head like a spiderweb; impossible to untangle. It took every ounce of my concentration to even understand her to begin with. I had to write the words on my arm in pen as she slurred away, and by the time I looked back to the phone to confirm I had it right, she was gone.
I’m a kingdom of tar,
Both vast and flat.
A place where travelers go tit for tat.
Come to me,
And you’ll find your past,
Reflecting darkly, holding fast.
I have no legs, no feet,
No ears,
But still your weeping is all I hear.
What am I?
Be there at noon.
I take a sip of coffee and turn the words over in my head for the thousandth time, little bits of the riddle crashing against the inside of my skull like pinballs.I’m a kingdom of tar, both vast and flat. A place where travelers go tit for tat. A kingdom of tar means a highway or a street. It has to. Especially when paired with the tit for tat road rage clue. What else can it be? It makes sense … until you take the second stanza into consideration.
Come to me, and you’ll find your past.Come to me—as in a location. A place that apparently has some sort of meaning to me? But what exactly? I’ve never been involved in a road rage incident. I’ve never gone tit for tat with anyone in a car. And the last stanza? It’s pure gibberish, the kind of bullshit line that always left me feeling stupid as a kid until someone smarter spouted the answer.
