Page 100 of The Island Villa

Adeline clutched the seat of the car, wishing her sister would slow down. At this rate, they were going to arrive at the hospital as patients, not visitors.

But Cassie was panicking and, for the first time in as long as she could remember, Adeline was panicking too.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what their mother had told them. Something fluttered inside her and for a moment she was a child again, before her heart had been bruised and her trust shaken, before she’d learned to keep a distance between her and her emotions.

A bump in the road almost sent them airborne and Adeline bit her tongue and banged her head.

“Cassie...” She ran her tongue over her lips, checking it was still attached. “I know you’re worried, but slow down.”

Cassie’s fingers were white on the wheel, her gaze focused on the road ahead that swooped and curved in switchbacks.

“Sorry. I know it’s not a great road, but it’s the shortest route to the hospital. I’ve been driving here all my life, or so it feels. I could do it with my eyes shut.”

“Open would be good.” She decided not to point out that all my life wasn’t very long when you were only twenty-two years old.

“The ambulance crew probably don’t even know this way.”

Or maybe they wanted to deliver their patient alive, Adeline thought.

It was the strangest feeling, weathering yet another crisis with a sister she’d had virtually no contact with since childhood. It was as if the universe was determined to throw them into the most intense situations possible. In many ways, her sister’s personality was the same as she’d been as a toddler. Warm, impetuous and positive. Although there wasn’t much sign of the positive side of her right now.

It was funny how differently people handled stress. Cassie rode it, every emotion right there on the surface. She’d be the type who screamed on roller coasters and sobbed at sad movies. Adeline had never sobbed over a movie and had never screamed on a roller coaster.

She’d never fallen in love.

“I didn’t tell her I loved her,” Cassie said. “What if we’re too late? What if I don’t ever get to tell her that again? What if the last thing she thinks about is me leaving the dinner table to be by myself? I should have hugged her and said how sorry I was that she’d been through that. How sorry I was that she’d ever found herself in a position of having to make that choice about what to tell her children.” Cass pressed her foot to the floor and Adeline’s head hit the neck rest. If they had to do an emergency stop, she’d have whiplash.

“Pull over, Cass, and calm down. You’re not safe to drive.”

“I’m safe. I just want to get there.” Cassie brushed the back of her hand across her cheeks. “And I’m not a calm person in the way you are.”

Adeline didn’t feel calm at all. She felt lost and shaken. She opened her mouth to say something but then closed it again. She’d be fine. She’d learned how to manage alone, which was good because her sister wasn’t in a state to absorb her stress along with her own. When they arrived at the hospital, she’d find somewhere quiet to gather herself and gain control. In the meantime, her focus was her sister.

“You’re going to be able to tell her all these things, Cass. And she knows how much you love her. You two have always been close.” She tried to put some distance between her and the problem. She imagined this situation was something someone had written to her about.

Dear Anxious, it’s always worrying when we feel we may not have a chance to say the things we wish we’d said.

“How do you know she knows? Did she say something? What happened after I left?”

“Not much. She was wondering if she’d made all the wrong decisions, if she’d been a bad mother.”

“I made her feel that way. I should never have forced her to talk about it. Relive it. I feel terrible.”

“Cassie, this is not your fault. What you heard was shocking. Of course, you wanted to hear the truth. Look where you’re going!” Adeline waved her hand at the road. “Concentrate. If you drive us into a ditch, that will definitely be your fault.”

“I’m concentrating. And it affected you too, but you didn’t put her under pressure the way I did. And I haven’t even asked how you’re feeling. And do not say fine because I’m going to know that’s a lie, and it will make me feel even more crap about not being able to manage my own feelings as easily as you do.”

“I’m not fine. And I never said it was easy.”

Cassie slowed down and briefly put her hand on Adeline’s knee.

She felt that touch and she felt the warmth and love behind the gesture. It made her question her urge to always handle problems alone.

“Actually, I’m feeling shaken, like you.” The confession tumbled past the barriers she’d built. “I had a clear view of the past, and that has changed.”

“Yes. That part is hard.”

“Harder for you.” Adeline stared into the darkness, watching as the headlamps illuminated the edges of the road. They were close to the town now and lights shimmered in the distance. Civilization. The hospital. Their mother. “How are you doing?”

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