Page 134 of Past the Broken Bridges

Don’t leave me like her.

“I don’t know what I would do,” he admits. “I thought you were gone. Just like your—”

He stops himself short of saying my mother, the look in his eyes full of the dread that my soul understands all too well.

Except Mom isn’t dead.

She’s alive and well and living a happy life away from us and all of the bullshit that comes with being stuck here.

This time, it’s me who pulls back.

My jaw trembles.

I didn’t cry when they brought me in.

I didn’t even shed a tear when I heard the radio scanner talk about the two people who were taken by the coroner from the accident, knowing one of them was my best friend.

Physically, I couldn’t let it out, even though I felt the desperation and sadness boiling over.

But here, in front of the father I’ve never let see me cry once in my lifetime, no matter the arguments or the beatings or anything in between, I break down and say the words I haven’t been able to aloud. “Dawson is dead.”

He doesn’t respond.

His throat bobs.

His hand comes out.

I flinch.

Then he pats my arm, as if he already gave me all the comfort he possibly could have.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Sawyer

The IV pole that I drag along with me from the bathroom across the hall is the only thing keeping me upright after the last twenty-four hours.

According to the doctor on call, it’s a miracle I didn’t sustain worse injuries outside the scratches, scrapes, and bruises marring my body.

A miracle.

Two people are dead, and I’m still here.

How is that a miracle?

My body is still stiff and sore, but I’ve refused pain medication. It makes me too groggy, and I prefer feeling the weight of reality. Drowning it out will only make the comeback ten times worse when I remember what I’ll be walking into once the hospital releases me.

When I get back to my room, the new shift nurse, Melody, offers to help me back into bed. I shake my head, determined to show them I’m perfectly fine on my own.

After all, I’m a walkingmiracle.

I snort to myself, making Melody’s brows pinch in confusion. Once I’m seated, she helps me get the blanket over me. “Have you reconsidered?”

She’s asking about my parents.

I’m legally an adult, so nobody needs to tell them I’m here. “They would freak out,” I whisper.

Melody gives me a small smile. She can’t be much older than me, but it seems maternal somehow. Not sympathetic, but something close to it. “Wouldn’t they feel the same way if they found out after the fact? You’ve gone through so much, Sawyer. They should be here for you.”

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