Page 192 of Saving Sparrow
I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that until he’d said it. He was the first one to ever love Elliott; he’d set the standard. His approval helped heal the wound left open from the night I’d lost everything.
“It’ll take forever to get a cab out here. There’s a car in the garage.” His words were sluggish now. “Take it.”
“Thank you.”
I picked up where I’d left off in the book, reading long after he’d fallen asleep, until I’d unknowingly drifted off too. The next time I awoke, it was to a breathless voice I hadn’t heard in ages, calling me a name I thought I’d never hear ever again.
“Guelly?”
Miguel
Now
My heartbeat pounded in my ears. “Ellie?”
His frantic gaze took me in, and then the room. “W-why are we here? How are you here? What’s going on?”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” I wrapped my arms around his trembling body. “Just please try to stay calm. I can’t lose you again.” I didn’t know if the rules were still the same, but I couldn’t take any chances until we could get him help.
“B-but what’s happening?”
I held his face between my hands, his tears running over my fingers. “I can’t tell you everything just yet because if you panic, you may go away again.” I didn’t need to be a doctor to know that unloading his trauma onto him right now was a bad idea.
“G-go away?”
“I’ll tell you everything later.”
“Tell me now. Not knowing is scaring me more, Guelly. What do you mean, I may go away again? And…” He reached a hand behind himself. “Why is my back sore?”
“I… I…” I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want him scared, but I didn’t want him gone either.
Elliott dug his nails into my forearms, and I could see the worst-case scenario building behind his gaze. “My parents—”
“Can’t hurt you. They can’t hurt you ever again, Ellie.”
“T-they’re still d-dead.”
“Yes, and they’re never coming back.”
“You’re sure?” His trembling intensified, his teeth chattering. I had to tell him. I had toshowhim.
“Positive. I’ll prove it to you once we calm you down.”
He ran his hands over my chest, feeling for a heartbeat. “This isn’t real,” he cried. “How are you here?” The last time he’d seen me, I’d taken a bullet to the head.
“I didn’t die.” I held his hand to my heart. “I’m real, Ellie. I didn’t die.”
Elliott let out a sob, crawling onto my lap, kissing me. Love and hope became a potent mix, setting the foundation for all the healing we needed. He broke the kiss, and I could see the question he was too terrified to ask.
“I’ll take you to him,” I breathed.
A little more life flashed in his eyes. “He’s okay? Quentin’s okay?”
“He’s alive.”
Elliott searched my expression. “What does that mean? What does any of this mean?” He took several deep breaths when I stayed quiet and concerned. “I’ll stay calm, I promise.”
“Alright, okay. Just… wait here a second.” I went into the closet to grab his overnight bag. It was too cold outside for what he had on, and I wanted him dressed and ready to go the moment I explained some things. I opened the chest containing the bag, with the ring of keys sitting atop it.
