Page 45 of Absolution

A whirring sound that increases until it’s unbearably loud. The sucking feeling in my stomach tells me we’re lifting.

“A helicopter? You clever bastard.” I gasp.

“There you are. You had me worried for a while. You went totally offline the whole car ride.”

I try to smile, then darkness swallows me.

The whirring decreases. Stops. A door slams, more cold. Wind whips in my face. Tiny flakes of snow, sharp as nails. Lifted. They put me on a gurney and roll me across a roof, through a door, corridors. Nate is by my side the whole time.

“Where are we?” I croak.

“Mount Sinai.”

“Huh?”

“Hospital, you imbecile.”

For the first time in a long while, I allow myself to relax. My body is heavy on the thin, hard mattress as a sense of calm washes over me.

“Thank you.”

Then everything fades.

*San Francisco*

Kerry

It’s a long, long flight. We’ve been in the air for eight hours, and I’ve been on my feet since five this morning. Cecilia is fine. She has slept a lot, oblivious to the changes that are about to take place. Myself, I’m a tight knot of anxiety and pain. Pain for the one I’ve lost, that I never really gave the chance, and anxiety over meeting everyone again, especially Mom.

I’m exhausted when I pass through customs with my bags on a trolley and Cecilia perched on top of them. She’s delighted to be doing something else than sitting on that boring plane, points at everything and chatters endlessly. I’ve slept, but nothing seems to help against the bone-deep tiredness.

Walking slowly, I scan the crowd for my mom, my stomach clenched in worry that she won’t be here, that it won’t be all right between us. When I spot her well-known features, I hold my breath until she sees us, her eyes darting between me and Cece. I don’t breathe until a big smile spreads on her face and she begins to wave for us to come to her.

I fall into her arms, almost choking from the bear hug.

“Mom.”

“Kerry!”

I hold her back at an arm’s length. “Mom, this is Cecilia.”

My little daughter looks up when she hears her name.

“Ce, this is your grandma.”

Grandma doesn’t even hold a meaning for her, but as my mom crouches before Cecilia and starts cooing and making funny faces, I have a strong feeling we will rectify that sooner rather than later.

Mom stands again, and takes my hand. “How are you? I’ve been so worried. You left that letter for me, so at least I had something to hold on to, but in my darkest moments—”

“Mom. Please take us home.”

She nods resolutely and grabs the trolley. “Do you wanna see a new city, Cecilia?”

Cece looks up at me, her face full of questions.

“I don’t think she has any concept of ‘city’.”

Mom gives me a strange look. “Oh. Okay. We’ll have to do something about that.” She turns the trolley and begins to push it through the crowd as determined as when Moses split the Red Sea. “Cecilia, do you like the ocean, then?”

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