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She breathed deeply.
“Lucy?”
April’s voice sounded far away.
“Are you okay?”
“I—I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I’ll take you to the bathroom.”
Lucy wanted to tell her no, she was fine to go alone, but instead she nodded. April took her arm and led her toward the bathrooms to the right of the vestibule.
Two uniformed officers brought in a flurry of snow as they stepped into the entry. The cold coming in from the outside felt remarkable to Lucy. “April, I’m just going to step outside for a minute. I think I just need air. I’ll be in before communion.”
“I can go with you,” April offered.
Lucy shook her head. “One minute—it’ll clear my head.”
“I’ll wait here.” April spoke softly to the officers while Lucy stepped outside.
The cold air did clear her head, and she watched the snowfall, thicker than when she’d arrived thirty minutes ago. She still felt ill, but she rarely got sick. She figured it must be grief. She missed Cody. She loved him—not in the way he wanted her to, but it didn’t mean she hadn’t cared for him deeply.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the cold.
Forgive me for thinking you’d do anything to scare me.
Though her skin was flushed, she was cold outside. She turned to go back inside, and the door was farther away that she’d thought. Her black sweater was damp and white from the snow, but she didn’t remember walking away from the doors. Everything was too bright—the snow, the lights in the entry, radiating colors and razor edges.
Something was wrong with her, but she knew she wasn’t sick. It was something else, and panic rose as her heart pounded. She couldn’t think coherently. She opened her mouth to call for April, but only a squeak came from her throat. The church and snow spun around her, faster and faster, and she thought she was a spinning top. Around and around and around…
…she was lying in the snow. She’d fallen…but she was at the bottom of the stairs. How? The streetlight above her beckoned her, a hand, as if God Himself was taking her up to Heaven.
She wanted to go. She was so sad, so lost.
Sean.
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and she focused on the steady, too-fast beat. Did her heart really beat this fast?
Sean, help me. I don’t want to die.
She tried to stand but couldn’t. Her hands dug into the newly fallen snow. She reached for her phone, but it wasn’t in her pocket. It wasn’t there because she’d left her coat in the pew in the church, and her phone was in that pocket.
She wanted to cry, but no sound, no tears, came. She had no control over her body, as if she were paralyzed. She desperately wanted Sean to pick her up and carry her to his bed. To hold her. To kiss her. To make love to her. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about the future, the possibilities, but Sean had walked into her life and she didn’t want him to leave.
She’d crawl. She could crawl home. No, that was two miles away. April would wonder why she was outside for so long. April…who was April? She felt she should know, but she couldn’t remember. What was she thinking? Crawling home? Where was home? Did she have a home?
She tried to call out again but couldn’t. Her mind swirled, as if in a blender, her head aching, her stomach clenching. She was so hot, she stared at the blinding snow and expected to see steam rise from where her fingers clawed the ice.
Sean.
Who was Sean?
“Let me help you up.”
The voice sounded a million miles away. She rolled over, her body heavy, lying in the snow. She looked up, but didn’t see anything, only a vague shape and a gloved hand.
“Thank you,” she tried to say, but her tongue was thick and dry.
