Page 2 of Serenity

“I was already planning on it,” helaughed.

“You know mesowell.”

“Always have,alwayswill.”

I smiled, knowing it was true. Declan wasn’t just my brother. He was my best friend. My other half. We’d been together before we were born, and I couldn’t imagine a time when we wouldn’t be at eachother’sside.

I turned my head to look at him and was about to say something along those lines when I caught sight of bright lights barreling towards us out of the corner of my eye. Declan had just crossed into the intersection on a green light, but a semi had blown through a red. I only remembered flashes after he crashedintous.

Breakingglass.

Squealingtires.

Declan’s scream, along withmyown.

Immense pain pressing against mychest.

Red and bluelights.

My momcrying.

The beeping ofmonitors.

When I finally woke up again, the time in between was a blur. My mom was next to my bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. My dad was at her side, his arm wrapped around her shoulder and his eyes were rimmedwithred.

Pulling the oxygen mask from my face, I croaked out, “Declan?”

Their heads jerked up and they jumped to their feet. “My baby boy,” my mom sighed, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You’re finallyawake.”

“Declan?” Irepeated.

My mom’s cries turned to sobs, and she buried her face in my dad’s chest. He was the one who gave me the devastating news, wrapping his hand around mine and squeezing. “Your brother didn’tmakeit.”

“What? No!” I shook my head, ignoring the pull of the wires connecting me to a multitude of medical equipment. The machines beeped wildly as my heart raced. Declan couldn’t have died. It was impossible. “He can’tbegone.”

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s true,” my mom sniffled. “Declan didn’tmakeit.”

“It’s my fault,” I breathed, squeezing my eyes shut. My chest felt like it was caving in. From guilt.Pain.Loss.

Nurses and doctors came streaming into the room, and my parents were pushed out as the medical team worked on me. It was at least half an hour later when they’d checked me over and let my parents back intotheroom.

“Dillon,” my mom cried, rushing towards me. “It wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you couldhavedone.”

“Your mother is right, son. Losing Declan the way we did is a tragedy, but it was an accident. We’ve seen the footage from the red light camera, and there’s nothing he could have done to avoid thattruck.”

It didn’t matter what the cameras showed. I still felt like it was my fault. It had been my car. I was the better driver. “Maybe if I’d been behind thewheel—”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” my dad assured me. “The accident still would havehappened.”

My mom sat down in the chair next to me and took my hand in hers. “You can’t play the what if game, Dillon. You’ll just drive yourself crazy ifyoudo.”

But how could I not? So much had changed, and I felt like it had only been a blink ofaneye.

“It’s really been a month?” I asked. One of the nurses had mentioned how long I’d been in a coma, and I was still trying to wrap my brainaroundit.

My mom nodded, gulping backasob.

“And Declan? Did he suffer?” I was tortured by the thought that I’d been in a coma, feeling no pain, while my brother endured hell for both of us beforedying.

My parents shared a look before my dad answered, “No, he died on impact, and so did the driver of the semi. Declan didn’tsuffer.”

I couldn’t have cared less about what happened to the driver who’d killed my brother, but the relief I felt at learning Declan hadn’t suffered was immense. For years, I held onto that fact each time my grief threatened to pull me under. It wasn’t much comfort, but at least it wassomething.

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