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I gulped. “What else?”
“That’s it. That’s all Sage ever said. A week after she was discharged from the hospital, she hanged herself while her mother ran an errand to the grocery store.”
My head fell into my hands again.
“We couldn’t bear to tell Daphne what had happened to Sage, so we told her the Peterson family moved. Sage’s parents did move. They needed a new start, and who could blame them?”
His words registered, even with my face buried. They were only words, devoid of emotion.
I couldn’t let myself feel anything.
If I did, I’d lose it.
I couldn’t lose it. Daphne needed my strength.
“Daphne came home and remembered nothing of the attack due to her amnesia, so we had to tell her something.”
I raised my head. “What? What did you tell her?”
“That she was attacked by a gang of girls who were jealous of her.”
“She told me that. Some girls bullied and hit her a few times and she went into anxiety and depression. What about spending the night with Sage?”
“She didn’t remember any of that. She lost the previous seventy-two hours.”
I nodded. This wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real.
“There’s more,” Jonathan said.
More?
Fucking more?
“God, please. Just tell me. Get it over with.”
He opened his mouth but closed it when the bartender appeared in front of us.
“Jonathan Wade?” the bartender asked.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
He heaved a phone onto the bar. “You have a phone call.”
Chapter Six
Daphne
“Hello?”
My father’s voice. My father’s deep and comforting voice.
“Daddy? You’ve got to come home.”
“Daphne? What is it? Are you all right?”
Sirens blared in the distance. The ambulance. Finally.
“I have to go. The ambulance is here.”
“Daphne, what happened? Are you all right?”
“It’s Mom. She’s… I have to let them in, Daddy.”
“Stay on the line, sweetie.”
I put down the phone and ran to the front door. Paramedics carried a stretcher and rushed inside.
“Where’s your mother?” one of them asked.
“Upstairs. Come on.”
I raced up the stairway and led them to the bedroom.
“Is she okay? Will she be okay?”
“We don’t know yet. Give us some space, please.”
“But it’s my mother. She needs me.”
“Ma’am, please.”
I stepped away and stood in the doorway to the bedroom.
Then—
Daddy! I bolted back downstairs to the phone. “Daddy? Daddy, are you still there?”
Dial tone.
How far away was McFall’s? My father and Brad would be home soon.
Then everything would be okay.
It had to be.
A few seconds later, the paramedics carried my mother downstairs on a stretcher. An oxygen mask covered her face, and other wires and things stuck out of her.
“Is she okay?” I asked frantically.
“We’re doing all we can, ma’am.”
“Where are you taking her?”
“The hospital. You can ride with us if you want.”
“Yes, yes.” Then I changed my mind. “No. My dad’s on his way home. I need to be here to tell him where to go. Which hospital?”
“St. Joe’s. It’s closest. Go to the ER.”
I trembled as I nodded. “Thank you. Thank you. Please, help her. Please.”
They left and loaded my unconscious mother into the ambulance.
I fell to the floor and cried.
“Daphne, baby.”
Brad’s voice.
“What happened, sweetheart? Where did they take your mother?”
My father’s voice.
“S-St. Joe’s,” I said. “She… She took some pills. Valium. After she was drinking.”
“God,” my father said. “I have to get to the hospital.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
“No, sweetheart. It’s late. I want you to stay here. I’ll call with news.”
“But what if—”
“She won’t. I won’t let her.”
I nodded. My father never broke a promise to me.
“You two stay here. I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”
Guilt pulsed through me—guilt because I was almost happy to stay here. Even though I wanted to be with my mother, I hated hospitals. Hated them with a purple passion.
My father left.
Brad lifted me off the floor and held me.
I cried into his hard shoulder, completely messing up his shirt, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop the heaving sobs that racked my body.
This was me at my worst, and Brad was witnessing it.
What would he think?
He didn’t say anything, just held me and rubbed circles on my back. He was trying to comfort me, but I couldn’t be comforted. Not until I knew my mom was okay.
Why? Why had she done this?
Had I upset her that much by getting pregnant? It had been an accident. A true accident. We’d used a condom.
“It’s okay,” Brad whispered.
I pulled away then. “That’s not true. It’s not okay. My mother OD’d on Valium. Nothing about this is okay.”
He met my gaze. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Then he stared at me.
I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t see myself, but I could imagine. My face would be red and puffy, my eyes swollen and bloodshot.
I turned away.
“Daphne.” He touched my shoulder. “Look at me.”
“I’m ugly.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Crying makes me ugly. I hate crying. I’ve vowed never to let anyone see me cry.”
“Your mother is in an ambulance. Of course you’re crying. It’s okay.” He kissed the top of my head. “And I’m not anyone.”
