Page 16 of Between Earth and Eternity
He stares at me for a long moment before covering his face with his hands. His shoulders start to lightly shake.
Oh my god. He’s crying. This is the opposite of what I intended. I’m only making him feel worse. I rush to his side and pull his hands away from his face. He lets me but keeps his head down.
“Elliot.” Only when I say his name does he look at me, tracks of tears falling down his cheeks.
“You have no idea how much my heart broke when your name was read,” he says. My bottom lip starts to tremble. “I wanted to be strong for you. I didn’t want you to fall apart more than you already were. I’m sorry if that’s harsh, but I needed—I wanted to be there for you.” I inhale a shaky breath. “I didn’t know what to—I still don’t know what to do. It turns out, when your best friend is leaving on an intergalactic journey and you have to stay behind . . .” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and he doesn’t need to. I lay my head on his shoulder, not sure what to say myself. As much as it hurts to see him this way, knowing I’m not alone in my sadness does offer comfort.
“Thank you for being my best friend,” I whisper.
“Always, San Fran,” he says, sniffling. “Always.”
The front door swings open, and Rebecca steps inside.
“Woah. You two okay?” she asks, taking in the scene. Her gaze lingers on Elliot.
“We’re fine, Mom. Just processing everything.”
Bec smiles sadly as she walks over to sit beside him. She cups his face in her hands, staring at him for several seconds before she says, “This isn’t like your dad, okay?” Even for being as closeas I am to their family, I suddenly feel overly intrusive. “Skyler isn’t going away for good. We will all be back together someday.”
He nods, and she pulls him into a hug. In all my years of seeing their relationship first-hand I can’t recall ever witnessing this type of intimacy between them. Maybe when we were kids, but not for a very long time. Definitely not in adulthood. Something in my heart breaks and sings at the same time at seeing a mother and son in an embrace such as this one. I slowly stand, and Bec gives me a nod in understanding before I slip out the door to let them have the moment in private.
On the short walk home, it hits me that everyone I will miss is going to miss me too.
I leave one concerned mother for another, finding mine pacing in the front room as I enter the townhouse.
“Oh, Sky. There you are.” She pulls me toward our hub console, a large clear screen that sits in the kitchen. It’s meant for hologram messages, though we’ve only received a few over the years. When I glance at the display, a notification in red sits at the top. “It’s for you,” she says softly. I lean in and see it’s from Mannox Industries with the subjectZenith Protocol. “Your dad should be home with Gran any minute if you want to wait for them before you open it.”
My heart sinks. “Where did he take her?” I ask, but I fear I already know the answer.
“She was having a bit of a coughing fit, so they went to see if the clinic could give her something to help.”
This isn’t fair. I don’t want nor do I deserve this ticket on Zenith. Between emotional breakdowns, Gran’s illness, and now this message glaring at me, I’m not sure if I want to scream or cry. Probably both simultaneously.
Before my thoughts can spiral further, Dad and Gran shuffle through the front door.
“What did the doctor say?” my mother and I ask at the same time.
“We didn’t get a chance to see a doctor, but they gave her a breathing treatment, and it seems to be helping,” Dad says, holding Gran’s arm.
“It is helping. I’m right as rain,” Gran says, but I can tell it takes her an extra bit of effort to speak. My parents exchange a worried look.
“When can you get in to see someone?” I ask. Weeks? Months?
“We don’t know,” my father admits. “It seems most staff members are preparing to depart on Zenith.” The sting of frustration is felt by each of us.
Of course. Only the best for the maiden voyage.
“There’s a message for Skyler,” Mother says.
For a few seconds, I had forgotten. I step toward the console as my family comes to stand behind me.
“Go ahead, dear. It will be alright,” Gran says, her delicate hand squeezing my shoulder.
I lift my finger to the screen and tap on the message, then I’m prompted to confirm my identity by scanning my thumbprint. I press it to the small box, and the hologram materializes in front of us. It’s Zara.
“Hello, Miss Andrews. Congratulations again on being selected as one of the lucky winners of the Lottery. I am sure this is an exciting time for you, and I imagine you have many questions.”
Exciting? Terrifying.
