Page 196 of Releasing 10
Not when her parents flew in from the States.
Not a single word had passed her lips since the night the Gardaí dredged her sister’s lifeless body from the river.
Depositing a slice of pizza onto a paper plate, I weaved through the throngs of sympathizers in my girlfriend’s kitchen and made my way upstairs to her bedroom.
She was exactly where I’d left her.
Buried beneath her duvet.
“Come on, Liz, I have food.”
Nothing.
Not so much as a twitch.
“I know you can hear me.” Setting my plate down on my makeshift mattress, the one I had slept on every night since her sister died, I climbed over a mountain of blankets and sat on the edge of her bed, plate in hand.
“So here are your two choices,” I stated calmly, breaking off a piece. “You can sit up and eat this yourself, or I’ll feed it to you. The method is optional. The eating is not.”
I didn’t want to come off like an insensitive asshole, but Liz couldn’t survive without food, and her parents were too consumed in grief to take the reins.
Enter Hugh.
“Helicopter dinner it is.” Moving the plate to her nightstand, I tore off a tiny piece of pizza and brought it to her mouth. “Comeon, Liz.” Stroking her cheek with my free hand, I tried to coax her back to life. “One bite for me?”
A noticeable shudder rolled through her body, and she opened her mouth.
Thank God.
“That’s it,” I praised when she accepted the tiny morsel of food. “Now, I need you to chew, Liz.” I stroked her cheek again, wiping the fresh stream of tears trickling from her bloodshot eyes. “Can you do that for me?”
Obliging without protest, she chewed the piece of food and then seemed to wait for my next instruction.
“You can swallow it, Liz,” I said, feeling my heart break for the millionth time since this nightmare began. When she did just that, I tore off another piece and repeated the ritual until I had managed to hand-feed her the entire slice, minus the crust because she was lying down and I didn’t want her to choke.
When she had eaten enough to sustain her for another day, I cleaned her face before settling down on her bed, facing her.
Her pale blue eyes stared right back at me, swollen and bloodshot.
“I love you,” I whispered, resting my hand on her cheek. “I’m always going to be here for you.”
Liz didn’t respond with words, but when she placed her trembling hand on my cheek, I knew she was listening.
She could hear me.
She wasstillin there.
YOU’LL NEVER FORGET ME, MUNCHKIN
Lizzie
APRIL 30, 2000
“WHY DIDN’T YOU DO SOMETHING…”
“Michael, she’s only a child…”
“Why didn’t you help her? She was your family! You should have done something…”
