I don’t know what to think about this, about any of it. I stare at the severed arm and wish to God this never happened. The position of her arm makes it look as if she were asleep. Swallowing hard, I try not to choke. I’m so close to totally losing it, but I can't because of Sean.
If I saw my mother blown apart, I’d lose it. I’d scream until my lungs burned, and my throat was raw. Terror would creep up my spine like an icy finger and make me sick. I’d see the world around me freeze. The flurry of meaningless daily tasks would blast from my mind. Every worry, every thought would be blown away--except for thoughts of her.
Regret for all the things I didn’t get to say or do would consume me. I'd wonder if she was in pain when she died. The thoughts have no words at first. They fall slowly, becoming clearer as they land, little pieces of ash drifting through the air.
Sean is living in that nightmare, the worst thought playing across his face--he failed to save her. He came close, but his failure means Constance's death.
Throat tight and burning, I pad over the glass-covered floor and kneel next to Sean. I raise my hand to place it on his shoulder, my palm hovering over him, unsure of what to do. I want to pull him out of that thought. He couldn’t have saved her. He couldn’t have saved Amanda. I wrestle with the same thought of saving my parents. I feel the guilt of it around my neck squeezing the life out of me.
Sometimes there is no fault, no blame. Even if there is a finger to point at someone, it’s not Sean. The man lives a double life. There’s a hardened exterior that’s cruel and frightening, but beneath the surface is a broken man with too much empathy to live with loss. The explosion adds one more life to the pile, one more person to mourn, and one more person to twist his tortured soul until he falls apart.
“Sean.”
He doesn’t move. His chest expands as he breathes and chokes back an angry sob. Those dark eyes focus on his mother’s ring; his lower lids twitch upward as if he can't control them any longer. His jaw locks and he shakes his head.
Shock is a strange thing. At first it felt like I could pull us both to safety. I thought we’d save his mother and run out of here, but the queasy feeling in my stomach won’t let up. The only thing I can think about is his mother sitting out here, pressing the phone to her ear, scolding Sean right before the room exploded. Did she know she was going to die? She had to know, she screamed horrifically over the phone. It’s not a sound easily forgotten.
I try to swallow, but can’t. The lump in my throat won’t move. My legs buckle, and I hug my knees tighter, intending to bury my face.
Sean’s voice makes me tip my head to the side.
“Avery?”
I blink once, slowly. Suddenly, the room shifts violently and my face lands hard against shards of glass on the floor. I try to shake it off and sit up, but I can’t. The room won’t stop spinning. I blink a few times, trying to focus my eyes and failing. Sean’s voice echoes as if he were far away.
Constance's ring is the last thing I see before the world goes dark.
CHAPTER 4
My body prickles with goose bumps, but I can’t feel the night air. I move my hand through the thin layer of fog feeling nothing.
I’m not outside. I’m alone, standing in the middle of a vacant room. There are no walls, only darkness. I don’t know where I am. My heart thumps harder in my chest, and I can’t breathe. There’s smoke. It’s everywhere, filling the room from top to bottom in thick, billowy black clouds.
I scream out for Sean, but I have no voice. I try again, but the only sound is a blood-curdling scream. It seems like it will never end. I fall to my knees and press my face to the floor, covering my head. Tears streak my cheeks, but I can’t feel them. I don’t feel the heat of the room or the smoke, but it chokes me all the same.
My body betrays me, and I slump to the floor like a rag doll, no longer able to move. It's like I’m trapped on tar paper, pinned in place. I open my mouth and inhale deeply, intending to scream as loud as I can, but the scream is silent.
No one can hear me. I’ll die here, alone.
I blink, trying to focus. Across from me, like a tiny sun in the darkness, something flashed. I blink away the smoke and swallow the pain, trying to see what it is. I reach out toward the light and find a familiar touch--Sean. He’s wearing his mother’s ring on his pinky. He reaches out toward me and takes my hand.
“I’m sorry, Avery.” His words are a whisper. They carry through the smoke and touch my ears like a kiss.
Fear courses through my veins. Is he giving up? We can’t die here! Sean’s grip on my hand loosens, so I tighten my fist. I try to yell,