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My mom’s shaky inhale has me swallowing, trying to be a soldier for her sake, like she always does for me, but I can’t find a drop of inner strength inside me, and the look in my mom’s eyes says I don’t have to.
“Come here, baby.” She tugs on my hand, and I allow my body to fall against hers.
Her hand rubs along my back, and I hate that I’ve come here like this, that I’ve pulled her into my nightmare, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
I close my eyes, reminding myself I’m lucky I’m not alone in life, that I need to be grateful for the things I have, but my mind fights back, screaming for me to shut the fuck up.
That I am alone.
That I do have nothing.
Because what will my life be without Arianna Johnson?
Empty, that’s what.
Ari
* * *
“I think I want to know,” I admit, and Mason’s anxious gaze finds me.
He steps around the doctor, coming to stand near Cameron on my opposite side. They share a look, both facing me.
“Ari,” Mason grasps my hand as he drops onto the bed beside me, a torn expression carved along his face. “You sure that’s a good idea? The doc just said—”
“That it could be triggering or traumatic, I know, I was listening, but what do you think waking up and realizing your mind is stuck in July feels like?” Proof of my botched emotions warms my cheeks, and Mason’s grip tightens. “I need to know why everyone is looking at me like I’m not even me. Did my life really change that much in one semester?”
Mason looks down, his eyes glossy when they finally rise to mine.
“Why don’t we pause on that a moment okay,” Dr. Brian intervenes. “And get back to understanding where we are. Does that sound all right with you?”
Mason waits until I nod to face forward.
“Okay, as you said, the last thing you remember is leaving the beach, correct?”
An anxiousness pulls at me, but I clear my throat. “Yeah. We spent the end of summer at our beach house, but I left a little earlier than planned. I remember leaving, but I don’t remember the drive or getting back to my house.”
“You mentioned bright lights?”
I close my eyes, thinking back.
It was nighttime when I stepped out of the door, my dad’s truck waiting for me to climb inside for the trip home. I crossed the roadway, and I saw a truck parked a few ways down. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it might have been Chase. Before I could get a better look, the headlights flicked on. I lifted my arm, trying to see past the shine, but it didn’t help.
The brightness blinded me.
And then… darkness.
“It, um, it was headlights. I was crossing the street, and they flicked on, shined right into my eyes.”
The doctor nods, looking to Mason when he speaks.
“Just like that night.” He frowns, looking to the doctor. “It’s almost the same. She was crossing the street, and then the truck came. She looked, but” —he swallows— “it was too late.”
My heartbeat spikes slightly, and I wince as I attempt to drag in a full breath.
Dr. Brian, folds his clipboard in front of him, tipping his head slightly. “Arianna, did something happen that night? The night you do remember?”
Panic washes over me, and while I’m not sure if it shows, the monitors I’m hooked up to give me away.
Mason’s posture stiffens, and Cameron’s palm finds my upper arm, afraid I’m going to have another panic attack.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Mase rushes out, and when I look into my brother’s eyes, finding his soft ones on mine, I take a breath. “I already know,” he says quietly.
Nodding, I hold his gaze. “You do?”
“Yeah, sister, I know about you and Chase. Maybe not every little thing, probably not every little thing, but I do know the big stuff. I know…” He looks to the doctor briefly, swallowing hard as he brings his attention back to me. “I know he hurt you, maybe even… broke your heart.” His brows pull into a frown.
The urge to cry out creeps over me, so I squash my lips to the side, because his tone, it’s telling, as is the sorrow in his eyes.
“Mase…”
He understands, shaking his head as he hangs it.
Chase hurt me, broke my heart, and this is Mason’s way of telling me his best friend didn’t put the pieces back together.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I nod again, salty tears falling into the corners of my mouth.
“Arianna,” the doctor eases. “Is that the way you remember that night?”
Nodding, I force myself to look at him. “Yeah. It was a rough day.” To put it lightly.
He nods, flipping a few pages and reading over something in my file. He closes it and faces me once more.
