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Prologue
Fernando
It only takes one look from Zacharias for me to know what my next job will be for the night.
His heavy gaze stays on me until I nod and leave the room. It's not the first time I've had to search for his son. It won't be the last either. As much as Enrico is dependable at his job, I can’t say the same when it comes to family matters. He often disappears during birthdays, reunions, parties, Sunday service at church, and family dinners.
Zacharias assumes he’s off getting drunk with his friends and being careless. I know better. Enrico doesn’t want his father to know about his health struggles. He has Zacharias believing they are better and no longer a worry. It’s all a lie. I agreed to keep his secret as long as he promised to never skip doctor appointments and to continue treatment. I also plugged my personal number in his phone and told him to always check in during his bad days. He isn't the best at memorizing or saving contact information himself, unless it's work related. Even though he's mostly been good about calling me during the times he's struggling the most, I need him to be better.
Walking outside, I head for one of the cars and slide into the driver's seat, checking the tracker on my phone. He's at the beach again. Last time I found him there lying on his stomach writing in a notebook.
“It's sometimes the only place I can find peace,” he told me.
Everyone should have a place where they can breathe easier. I did once, and I'm still hoping to find it again. We aren't all lucky enough to have more than one.
An hour of driving leads me to where he is and I get out of the car, hating how my shoes sink into the sand. I'll be carrying it with me for weeks. Whoever was the first to call it nature's glitter wasn’t wrong.
I smile when my eyes land on a familiar red umbrella and blue towel. My face immediately falls once I notice Enrico's crumpled form on top. Running his way, I no longer worry about the sand. My concerns shift to the limp man in front of me. His eyes roll back in his head and his face pales.
“Enrico,” I shout. No response comes. “Look at me, little one,” I say, dropping to the sand beside him. The rough grain is wet and uncomfortable on my knees. It's nothing compared to the tugging in my chest.
I shake his shoulder a few times and when he still doesn't open his eyes, I lift him in my arms and carry him to the car. I leave all his stuff behind. It can easily be replaced. His life can't. I carefully slide him into the back seat and get inside the car. I don't waste any time turning the key in the ignition and driving off the beach. Heading toward the hospital, I occasionally glance in the rearview mirror, ensuring he’s still breathing. Other than the slight rise and fall of his chest, he doesn't move or make any sounds the whole time. It only has my heart sinking more.
“We're almost there, pequeño. Hang in there for me.”
As soon as I pull up in front of the emergency room, I rush to the back seat and carry Enrico through the double doors.
“Can I help you?” a nurse asks, peering at me through a window.
“Yes. He's unresponsive. I found him this way on the beach twenty minutes ago.”
Her eyes widen with worry. “How long was he out there for?”
“I don't know, but his eyes were partially open when I finally reached him.”
“Go ahead and bring him through the door.” A loud buzz sounds in the air and I push my way through the door.
“We need a bed. We have an unresponsive man, who looks to be in his early twenties and may have suffered a heat stroke,” she shouts toward the nurses’ station.
“He's nineteen and has Crohn's.”
Her face pales. “I'm going to need that bed and fast.”
A bed rolls in our direction and as soon as I lay him down, they are already rolling him away.
“Wait,” I say, attempting to follow them.
The nurse shakes her head, her eyes heavy with sympathy. “I'm sorry, sir, but you're going to have to return to the waiting room for now. We will update you as soon as we can.”
I stand there watching him disappear behind a curtain. The worst scenarios run through my mind. A small hand rests on my shoulder. “This way, hun. I can assure you he's in good hands.”
I've been told those same words before and they were wrong. I Inhale a deep breath and don't release it until we're in the waiting room. Sitting in the chair alone, I fight against old memories, trying to push them down, but they crawl into my head anyway. Now isn't the time to be caught in them but once they reach the top, they explode like a grenade, the pieces of flashbacks spreading like flying debris.
Linda lies in bed, her lips cracked and cheeks hollowed in. “Promise me you won't waste your time missing me too much.”
Shaking my head, I grab her hand. “What a ridiculous promise to make.”
She sighs, squeezing my fingers. “I have to know you'll be able to have a life without me. You can't do that if you spend all your days grieving and dedicating yourself to a dead woman.”
