“Don’t get mad.” He stood up like he’d expected this. “I didn’t want to do it behind your back. So I came here first. To tell you in person and ask if you want to come with me.”
“But … but you can’t visit her!”
He straightened, squaring his shoulders. “Why not? She’s my mom. I’m sixteen.”
“I get that, honey, but your mom …”
Your mom what?
Your mom looks like she’s dying from the cancer I was hiding from him?
The words clogged in my throat.
“My mom what?” he asked, eyes narrowing like he could already hear the lie forming.
“She …” I swallowed. “People don’t just let kids visit jails. The jail needs to approve it. They need to run background checks. All of that. I don’t even know if they allow minors at all.”
His arms crossed over his chest. “Mm-hmm. Well, I have good news then. Dad called them first thing this morning for me.”
My stomach dropped. “He did what?”
A humorless sound left him. “Yeah, he’s actually good for something when he’s sober.” His mouth twisted. “Amanda somehow keeps him out of the bars. Not like we could.”
“Amanda, huh? Well, I’m sure she told you it’s better not to go and see your mom.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “It was her idea. She thinks it would help me. Help me process things. Sort out all my emotions.”
The room grew hotter suddenly.
None of this felt real. I’d been gone from them for what? Two days? Or was it three? Four? And then this?
“Well, that’s very kind of Amanda,” I said slowly. “But maybe Amanda isn’t the best judge of things right now. Amanda isn’t doing so well herself.”
“So? None of us is,” he snapped.
And why wouldn’t he defend her? Even I knew she was right. Seeing Lacey might help him. Might ground him. But what none of them knew was that Lacey was dying.
In all the fighting to get her out, to stretch her time, to get her better medical care, I hadn’t let myself think about the other possibility. The one where she didn’t make it. The one where she died in there.
Without Dylan.
Without the kids.
Without good-byes and last hugs.
The idea pressed down on my shoulders until my body gave in and dropped back onto the couch. My breathing struggled to catch up, and I stared wide-mouthed into nothingness.
Dylan rushed forward to my side. His hand closed around mine. Warm. Strong. The only thing linking me to reality. To being alive at all. Without it, I might have slipped somewhere dark and hollow. Somewhere I’d already been visiting too often lately.
“Grandma, you all right?”
The sound of his voice reached me, but no words formed into an answer. My mouth opened, then closed again.
“If it upsets you so much, I won’t—”
“No,” I said, and pushed myself to sit upright. “No. You’re right. You should see your mom. I’m sorry I didn’t take you to see her sooner.”
“It’s okay.” He placed his arm around me, protective. “I know you’re doing all this for us. Even more than for her. You’re doing it for me.”
