Because if I can tell her what I tried to do today—how I tried one last time to save everything and failed—maybe I can manage to tell the rest of my family.
The rest of my family.
I smirk at the thought. At its honesty.
Because Hattie might as well already be family. She’s mine.
More accurately, I’m hers.
And that’s just about the only thing that could make what happened today feel like anything less than the end of the world.
Headlights cut through the falling dark, and I hold my breath until I make out the shape of her Jeep in the dusk.
The sight is like a lighthouse. The hope that I won’t be lost at sea.
Still, when she pulls up to the farmhouse and parks, I can’t make myself rise to greet her.
I just can’t.
When she kills the Jeep’s engine, she’s staring at me from inside. Probably frowning. There’s not enough light to tell.
It only takes her a second, but she gets out and walks over to me. And I sense she knows something’s wrong.
Because Hattie doesn’t say a word.
Silently, she sits next to me and takes my hand. She squeezes it like she already understands how much this sucks.
It hits me how hard I was counting on her opening her mouth and chasing away this doom.
But she says nothing.
So I close my eyes, knowing I’ll have to start.
I say the words in my head
It’s over.
But I can’t form them on my tongue.
I fucking can’t. I?—
“In case you’re wondering, I’m not going to try to cheer you up.”
Her words knock me back.
“You’re… not?”
Hattie shakes her head.
“I hate when people try to cheer me up when I’m upset. It just makes me madder.” She rolls her eyes. “Like, jeez, just let me be pissed for a minute, you know?”
And despite myself, despite what I failed to do today, the corner of my mouth twitches. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nods earnestly. “If I’m pissed, I’m gonna be pissed. Don’t try to give me emotional whiplash with a funny story or some good news while I’m in full Fuck Force Five.”
I choke a little. “F… Fuck Force Five?”
“Like… Hulking out.”
