Page 45 of Since She's Been Gone

“She has a stomachache.”

After eating, I went to their bedroom to say goodbye to her and heard her throwing up in the bathroom.

“Are you okay, Mom?” I asked, standing in front of the bathroom door.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just have an upset stomach.”

“I wanted to say goodbye before Dad takes me to school.”

“One minute,” she said.

I sat on their bed, waiting. She took a long time, and I started to worry she might be sicker than Dad had let on. When she finally appeared, she looked like a shell of herself.Her face was ashen, and she was clutching her stomach in distress.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go to school today,” I said. “I think someone should stay here to be with you in case you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” she told me. “It’s important for you to go to school … and live your life.” She struggled to get the words out.

When she hugged me, I saw the tears in her eyes.

“Were you crying?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, I just don’t feel well.”

“I’m sorry.”

She hugged me tightly. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“Yes.”

When I pulled out of the embrace, I could tell she was having trouble letting go. I wondered if I should stay and be with her despite her telling me not to.

“Good luck with your test today. You’ll do great,” she said. “Remember, I love you.”

“I know,” I said. “I love you too.”

Now, Sarah hugs me, pulling me out of my memory.

“Love you too, Beans,” she says.

Eddie looks at us both with a pained smile.

And, like that, we all say goodbye.

PART IICase History

The art of clinical diagnosis lies in the ability to ask the right questions.

—Harriet B. Braiker

CHAPTER27

THE SKY ISpainted black and sprinkled with white stars.

With Mom’s death certificate tucked into my purse and her lima bean charm bracelet dangling on my wrist, I roll my carry-on suitcase out of my house.

When I lock the door and turn around, I find Detective Thompson standing on the street next to my car.

“Going somewhere?” he asks me.

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