When we reached the second floor corridor, Evan turned to me and instructed, "Close your eyes."
"Are you serious?" I asked dubiously, not really in the mood for one of his surprises.
"It's not what you think," he assured me. "Just close your eyes."
I let out a resigned breath and did as he directed. Evan kept a hold of my hand and guided me further down the hall. We stopped and he released me. I heard the jangling of keys and the click of a lock.
"Keep them shut," he ordered, taking hold of my hand again and leading me forward.
With the slightest inhale, I instantly recognized the scents swirling in the air.
"Breathe, Emma," he coaxed, squeezing my hand. "It's okay."
"How'd you know?" I asked, overcome with emotion. I breathed deeply and eased the air through my chest, searching for the release I always sought in this room. I opened my eyes and found Evan gazing at me affectionately.
"Because I know you."
I closed my eyes and consumed the faint traces of paint, glue and cleaner, releasing the darkened fury with each cleansing breath.
I moved to him and put my arms around his chest, pressing against him. "Thank you."
He held me tenderly, being mindful not to squeeze too tight.
"Hold on to this life, Emma," he whispered. "You're so much stronger than you think you are."
I looked up at him with glistening eyes. Evan bent down, and the warmth of his lips captured my breath, helping me find the calm I was unable to find on my own.
41. Power of Suggestion
"Where are you?" Sara asked when I picked up the phone. I groaned, instantly realizing we'd forgotten to tell her that we weren't at Rachel's.
"Oh, Sara, I'm sorry," I replied. "We're driving back to Evan's. Rachel and I got into a horrible fight, so we left. Are you there?"
"Yeah. Did you get everything?"
"Um," I considered, then recalled, "oh, there's one box left, but we can get it another day."
"Why don't I just grab it now since I'm here?" she offered casually.
"You may not want to do that," I cautioned. "She was a mess when we left. I was... I was pretty ruthless."
"And I'm sure she had it coming," she responded, unaffected. "I don't care. I'll just run in, get it, and leave."
"You were warned. Call me if you need to, otherwise just come to Evan's."
Evan raised his eyebrows when I hung up. "She's going in?"
I shrugged. "Guess so."
"Wow," he grimaced. "This should be interesting."
Before we reached Evan's, my phone beeped. "Uh oh," I uttered when I saw Sara's name on the screen.
"Emma, you need to come back to the house," she spewed urgently.
"Sara, what's wrong?" Fear paralyzed my heart.
"Rachel. She's not moving," she said in a rush. "The ambulance is coming but... Oh God."
"Sara?" My eyes flickered as I listened, but it was silent. I pulled the phone away from my ear to find that we'd been disconnected. "Evan, we need to go back."
Without me realizing it, he'd turned around as soon as he heard the stress in my voice.
The car sped up. "What did she say?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"That Rachel wasn't moving, and an ambulance was on its way. But then... then something happened and I lost her. Evan, if anything happens to Sara..." My mind was racing, fearing that the drug dealer had returned to collect the debt, despite his injuries. Or maybe someone else was doing it for him. I couldn't sit still, wanting us to drive faster, despite Evan's acceleration through the vacant residential streets?easily doubling the speed limit.
"We'll be there soon," he assured me, as I gripped the handle above the door.
My chest hurt from holding my breath as we turned onto the street. An ambulance, fire truck and two police cars were out front?their lights flashing brightly against the black backdrop.
"Oh no," I breathed. A thousand horrifying images rushed through my head, making me falter on weakened knees when I jetted out of car.
"Sara!" I yelled, rushing toward the house. I was intercepted by a police officer, demanding that I stay outside. He questioned me about the people who lived there. I wasn't listening. I tried to see around him, frantically searching for her, but I was restrained and couldn't move forward.
I just about collapsed when I saw the paramedics exit and rush to the ambulance to retrieve a stretcher.
"What's going on? Please, you have to tell me if she's okay!" I pled in a desperate sob. "Sara!"
"Emma?" I heard her rasp. She sounded like she was right inside the door. I tried to get to her, but the police officer held up his hand, and I was pulled back.
"Miss, you need to stay outside until they've removed her."
"What?!" I demanded frantically. "What do you mean?!"
The paramedics and firefighters came into view through the open door, carrying a board.
"No," I gasped, tears pouring down my face. "No."
But then I saw the dark hair, not Sara's fiery red. I froze.
I watched unblinking as they transferred her onto the stretcher and wheeled Rachel by me with an oxygen mask over her face. All of the emotion drained out of me. I stared after her in shock.
"Emma?!" Sara called, rushing out of the house. Her face was red and streaked with tears.
"Sara!" I exclaimed, hugging her tight. I knew my ribs were supposed to hurt. They should have hurt a lot today, but I couldn't feel anything. Sara sobbed into my shoulder. That's when I realized Evan was behind me. He'd been holding me back, helping the police officer contain me. "Sara, what happened?"
"I found her in her room," she choked. "Her door was open, and she was lying on the floor. There were pills and a bottle of vodka. She wouldn't move. Then she stopped breathing." She took a quivering breath, and burst, "I tried, Emma. I really tried."
"It's okay," I soothed, my heart aching at her distress. "It's okay."
Then the realization slowly began to sink in, and I heard myself utter, "It's okay." But I wasn't really sure who I was talking to. Everything slowed down, and I felt like I was looking through a tunnel.
The police officers asked us to come into the house to answer some questions. I responded without really knowing what I was saying. I didn't even know if I was coherent, dazed the entire interview. They said something about the ambulance and a hospital and I nodded, not understanding.
"Thank you," I heard Evan say, and I watched the police officers return to their cars. There were people outside on the sidewalk. Neighbors gathered to catch a glimpse of my nightmare. That's what this was. I was trapped in a never ending cycle of nightmares. Voices echoed around me, and I tried to focus on their faces.
"Emma, we should go," Evan said above me. My head felt heavy as I nodded it. "Want to come with us?" He was talking to Sara, but I just kept nodding.
"Emma?" Sara called to me, taking my hand. I could still hear her sniffling. "She's going to be okay. I mean, she has to be."
Who? I wanted to ask, not following along. Then everything rushed in on me all at once, I was punched in the stomach with the flood of information, my brain translating it in an instant.
"No," I said strongly, drawing Evan and Sara's attention with a start. "No. I don't want to go to the hospital."
"What?" Sara questioned in confusion. "Your mother just overdosed..."
"I know," I interrupted. "I don't want to see her."
"Don't you want to know if she's okay?" Evan asked, his voice careful.
"No," I returned adamantly. "I don't want to see her. She did this. She did this because of me, to hurt me. I won't let her. I won't let her."
"Emma, what are you talking about?" Sara demanded fervently.
Evan crouched in front of me and met my eyes. "Are you sure?" I nodded. He studied me intently for a moment and then nodded. "Okay. We don't have to go."
"Evan, what the hell are you talking about? What if she?"
"Sara," he cut her off before she could finish. "You weren't here earlier. It's probably not a good idea to go to the hospital. We should get you home anyway. It's been a crazy night for you too."
Sara shook her head, aghast. "I don't understand."
"I'll explain later," Evan told her. "Emma, let's go."
I was still a bit dazed. I took his hand and allowed him to guide me. He and Sara shut off the lights along the way, and he found the key on my keychain to lock the door. We continued to the car, and Sara crawled into the back while I sat in the passenger seat. We drove to Sara's in silence, or maybe I just couldn't hear them talking.
Anna was a wreck when we arrived. She'd been contacted by the police, since they knew Sara's father. She fretted over us when we entered, hugging each of us, running her hand over our tear stained cheeks to examine us more closely. Evan did most of the explaining since he was the only one composed enough to make sense.
My entire body ached and my ribs burned with pain. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to listen. I just wanted to shut it all out and crawl under the blankets. Eventually, once Anna and Carl were satisfied with what they were told, we were released upstairs.
Evan stayed with me as long as he was allowed, laying quietly in front of me on the bed, watching me drift off. Sara ended up crawling in bed with me sometime in the night, probably unable to sleep. I wasn't so certain I slept much either. My eyes searched in the dark?blinking in and out of consciousness.
"I told her to do it," I whispered to Sara when her eyes opened across from me, the dawn softly glowing above us.
She blinked wider, trying to understand.
"I told her I didn't care if she took the entire bottle. And she did."
"Emma," Sara breathed in shock, finally understanding what I meant. "You didn't make her do it."
"But I don't know if I would've stopped her either," I confessed in a flat tone.
"Don't say that. You would have."
"I hate her, Sara," I rasped, my eyes blurring with tears. "I hate her so much." My voice broke, and I swallowed against the truth. Tears ran over my nose and onto the pillow. "I didn't want to see her, because... because I don't care if she's dead."
"Oh Emma," she cried, her blue eyes seeping in pain. "I don't believe that. You're angry. But I don't believe you'd want her dead."
I didn't say anything more. We lay silently, absorbing the torment in the other's eyes, eventually falling back into a restless sleep.
I felt responsible for what Sara had endured because of Rachel's selfishness. But I didn't feel remorse for what I'd told her. I really didn't care if my mother lived or died.
~~~~~
"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Sara asked again with the bag in her hand.
I looked at Sara and her mother from my kneeling position on the kitchen floor, scooping up the congealed tomato and placing it on the cutting board on the table. "I'm sure. I'll finish picking up. I still need to throw out the food in the fridge."