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She laughed gently. “I’m glad Ethan has you. Let me know when he gets here.”
Ethan, where are you? Don’t you know it’s rude to keep a dying woman waiting? I thought, watching as Gigi climbed back onto the bed to lay next to her.
Over the next few hours, everyone came into her room…even Mina. She spoke to each person, and she made them all promise her something. Every word she spoke was about family. After each person, she would tell me to let her know when Ethan got here. And as the sun began to set and the sky darkened, I wanted Ethan to be here more for her than anything else.
There was still no word.
And as the moon shined in the night sky, we all felt it—she wasn’t going to see the sunrise. She got weaker and weaker despite Wyatt’s best efforts. Everyone surrounded her as she waited for the last person to make their way to her.
Taking out my phone, I walked over to her bedside, kneeling by the bed again. “Evelyn?”
“Is he here?” she asked, her eyes not even opening.
“He’s on a flight back right now,” I lied. “I have him on the line, what do you want to say to him?”
Her eyes flittered open the tiniest bit, looking at the phone, and she smiled. “You’re okay. I’m so happy that you’re okay, Ethan. I’ve been waiting. I know you. You’d be mad if I left without saying anything. I know you’re sad, right?”
Silence.
“It’s okay. Ethan, it’s okay. Promise me…promise me you’ll forgive them…and you’ll forgive yourself. You don’t have to be perfect. I love you, and this family loves you all the same. Even when I am not here, know that I love you, and I trust you. You are going to do so well. This is just the beginning for you I know it. I’m sorry I couldn’t see more. But know, I will always and forever be on your side. Just like your grandpapa.”
It was as if those words, that promise was the force keeping her alive, and after she said them, there was nothing left but the name.
“Sedric.” Came from her mouth.
That was it. At 9:47 pm on December 30th, surrounded by almost all of her family, the rock, the foundation of the Callahan family, Evelyn Callahan passed away with a smile on her face.
22
“Freedom for the wolves
has often meant death to the sheep.”
~Isaiah Berlin
CALLIOPE
It was 7 am.
I’d been up since 5 am.
The funerals would be at 8 am.
And still, even with all the news and press that I’d put out, there was no word from Ethan. He had to be here. There could be no valid reason, no excuse that would cover him not being here…at the funeral of his only grandmother and uncle. No reason but death. The only reason he wouldn’t be here was that he had died. He hadn’t died. The son of bitch wasn’t allowed to die. I had to torture him, I had to make him suffer, I had to make sure he knew nothing less than groveling for years would make me even consider forgiving him. After all that I had given up for him, he needed my permission to catch a cold, let alone die.
So, I waited.
Quietly, I waited in the living room by the fireplace under the family portrait that was no longer an accurate representation of this family. A haunting reminder of the cost this “victory” came.
All the people who had hurt me growing up were dead. I now sat in a luxurious mansion, with people at my beck and call, covered from head to toe in precious jewels and clothes. This was a victory. My rewards were funerals.
That was what I got for winning—death, pain, and tears.
A home filled with aching silence.
“Ma’am?”
Looking to the door, I saw O’Phelan waiting.
