All I can manage is a nod.
“Is this real? Tell me this isn’t reality…” I bury my face in his neck, my tears wetting the collar of his shirt.
He holds me tighter, his cheek resting on the top of my head. “Yeah, it is, Hud. A really shitty reality.”
“I should have figured out how to help her. I knew, and I didn’t do anything, just cut her off—”
“Hey, hey…” Cull pulls me away from his body just enough so he can look me in the eyes. “This isn’t on you. Her parents knew, and they didn’t take it seriously enough. This is on them, Hud.Notyou.”
We found out that Ella’s parents knew about the pills and that it was a source of many arguments. They just let her keep doing it, thinking that she wasn’t in too deep or that it was a phase. Now, because of their lack of concern, they’re burying their only child.
“It’s not fair…”
“What’s not fair, baby?” Cull uses his knuckle to wipe away a tear, smearing the wetness across my cheek.
“That I had you. My parents. Ella didn’t have anyone after I cut her off. What if that’s what pushed her to do what she did?”
I know what that darkness feels like. I know what it’s like to look at tomorrow and feel absolutely nothing. To convince yourself the people who love you would be better off without you.
The difference is that someone grabbed my hand before I could disappear completely.
Ella never reached for one.
“Hud, Ella made her choices, and you did the right thing by breaking up that friendship.”
“Doesn’t make me feel any less guilty.”
“I know,” he says on an exhale, pulling me back into another hug. “Let’s just get through today, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I drop my arms from around him and walk back to my dresser to make sure I look okay. Cull comes up to me and straightens my tie, his magic touch helping it to lie as it should. He hands me my jacket, helping me get my arms in, then we head downstairs.
We find Mom frantically pacing from the kitchen back to the foyer, her cellphone to her ear, nose red from crying. She’s beendistraught ever since she found out the news. Mom was still working through the fight we had with Mrs. Amy, then she found out what Ella did to me. It’s been a lot for her to process.
“Okay, thank you.” Mom ends her call and finally stops pacing, her shoulders lifting with a deep inhale.
I cross the room and pull her into a hug. She folds against me immediately, her sniffles muffled by my suit jacket.
“Are you alright?” I ask, rubbing a hand up and down her back.
“Yes.” She clears her throat as she steps away. “That was Amelio’s. I wanted to make sure the Hackford's had a meal waiting for them after the service.” A tired smile flickers across her face. “Amelio’s is Amy’s favorite.”
“You’re a great friend, Mom.”
Her smile wobbles.
Mom and Mrs. Amy hadn’t spoken since their blowup. The Hackford's didn’t even try to reach out when I was in the hospital. But the moment Mom heard the news about Ella, she called Mrs. Amy, offering comfort the way she always does.
That’s who Mom is. No matter what happened between them, she saw her best friend grieving and showed up anyway.
Mom bends down to slip on her heels, using my arm to steady herself. Dad joins us a moment later, Hadley trailing behind him.
My sister comes over to me and wraps her arms around my waist. Her eyes are red-rimmed like the rest of ours, black smudges from where she’s wiped her mascara.
For a second, we’re twelve years old again. Ella is stretched across our living room floor with a bowl of popcorn, Hadley is stealing the good blanket, and we’re arguing about what movie to watch.
The memory hits so hard it steals my breath.
We were the Three Musketeers. That’s what our parents always called us.
