Page 138 of Irreversible

“I’m tired.” I stare at the ceiling. My bottom lip wobbles, so I chomp down on it to quell the quiver. “The nurse said I should get some rest.”

I can’t see his reaction, but I hear the sound he makes.

A choked gasp. Despair.

He stands from his seat, looming over me and pressing a trembling palm to my blanket-covered shoulder. “Everly…I’m sorry.”

I close my eyes through a slow nod, fighting back tears. “Me, too.”

Jasper lingers for a few more seconds.

Twenty-two.

Then his hand slides off my shoulder with absolute defeat, and he turns to leave the room.

I watch him disappear from my periphery. The curtain shuffles, his loafers pausing on the other side as hesitation grips him. I wonder if he’s about to come back inside, ambush me with more apologies, plead his case.

But he doesn’t.

He walks away.

A tear trickles down my temple as I glance at the spray of pastel flowers resting on the side table, glimmering under the can lights.

My throat tightens.

I asked Isaac if he would ever get me flowers one day.

I wonder if he would have.

Two more days slog by like thickening molasses. I’m restless, antsy.

I want to go home.

Thankfully, the news comes in when I’m a minute into brushing my teeth, zoned out and staring blankly in the mirror.

A nurse’s voice pulls me from the void. “Your discharge paperwork is in. Today’s the day.”

Today’s the day.

A new chapter begins.

I spit out a mouthful of toothpaste and rinse the sink, combing my fingers through my hair while a trickling of nerves race through me. My mother has been in and out of my room over the last forty-eight hours, bringing me homemade treats and warm smiles, and telling me she spruced up the guest room of her quaint bungalow, located on the outskirts of Los Angeles.

Just in case.

I’m assuming Jasper filled her in on my discovery the other day, spurring thejust in case.

My heart teeters at the memory.

The flowers at my bedside are already wilting as I traipse back into the room, still weak and underfed. I managed to keep down oatmeal this morning while the antibiotics do what they can to rid me of this infection.

When the nurse disappears, my mother enters minutes later with a duffel bag stuffed with a change of clothes.Real clothes. Something other than nightgowns made of ivory and lace.

“I’m thinking you can spend the first few nights with me,” Mom says, her eyes aimed downward as she pulls out a pair of jeans and a sky-blue blouse. She spreads the outfit across the wrinkled bedcovers, smoothing out the collar of one of my old favorite tops adorned with a daisy print. “Just until you get acclimated. And maybe because I’m a worried mother who doesn’t want to let you out of her sight for atleasta month.” She shoots me an affectionate side-eye. “How did that interview go with the detective?”

“It was fine.” I clear my throat and pad over to the side of the bed, plucking a rectangular business card off the table beside the vase. Studying it, I graze the pad of my thumb over the lettering: Detective Lucas Tanner. It was the same man I spoke to amid the tumultuous rescue, the one who asked for my name. I don’t think I’d recognize a single other face from thatfive-minute blur, but, for some reason, Detective Tanner stood out. “It wasn’t much of an interview. Just a briefing,” I clarify. “I’m going to follow-up with him once I’m settled. My brain was mush.”

All I could really manage was a stream of fruitless questions about Isaac.

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