Page 122 of Finish Line

“Nick called and told me about your mom being rushed to the hospital. I got here as fast as I could. The others should be here soon, too.”

I shrug. “She overdosed again.”

He sits beside me and puts his arms around me. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is what she does. She fooled me this time. I thought she would stay clean.” I laugh. “Joke’s on me, huh?”

“She tried Shelby,” Nick says. “Maybe things were too much for her.”

“You mean I’m too much for her?” My head drops, and I notice three more people in the room. “When did you guys get here?”

“You were staring out into space when we arrived. Cam told us the basics,” Mav says.

“You guys don’t need to waste your time here. Once they settle her, they’ll allow us to see her. Then, she’ll say how sorry she is and that she’ll never do it again. I’m done. I told her if she does this again, I’m gone,” I state.

Peter runs through the emergency room entrance and searches the faces.

I stand up, and he jogs over to me.

“What happened?” he gasps, out of breath.

“I came home and found her on the floor. She OD’d again.” I shake my head. “Peter, I’m sorry she pulled you into this.” My voice cracks.

“Shelby, I need to tell you something—” Peter’s interrupted when a doctor walks in.

“Tate family?” He waits for a response.

“Yes, that’s us.” Peter turns around.

“Can you follow me into this room over here?” he says.

My feet falter as my chest tightens.

This is different. They’ve never taken me into a private conference room. I look over my shoulder and motion for the guys to stay in the waiting room.

Nick, Peter, and I file into a small room. The doctor closes the door behind him.

“Please have a seat.” He waves at the seats behind us.

“I don’t need one.” I hug my arms across my stomach. “I’ve been through this before. I know what you’re going to say. She had an overdose and needs help. If she doesn’t receive help and continues using, her organs could start shutting down.”

“Shelby, please.” Peter looks over at me, a note of pleading in his voice.

I sigh and take a seat.

“I’m sorry, but Mrs. Tate didn’t make it,” he says.

Peter gasps, covering his mouth. He hunches his shaking shoulders. Nick’s mouth falls open. His eyes move to his father, then over to me.

My ears ring. I heard him wrong. She’s dead. No, that’s not right. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“What killed her?” Peter chokes out.

“We rushed a blood sample and found Fentanyl in her system. I’m sorry for your loss. If you have questions, have a nurse find me.” He leaves the room.

“Fentanyl? Where did she get that?” My chest constricts. “It’s normally oxycodone.”

I need to leave. I can’t breathe. I jump up and run out of the room.

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