Can't Let Go - By Michelle Brewer Page 0,13

sounded as if it were miles and miles away. It even sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t see through the fog. “Abigail—?”

“She’s dead.” It was the only phrase she was capable of forming.

“Who’s dead?”

“Hayley. Blake. Their baby.” She was in shock. She knew this. The pain was turning into numbness, and this was easier to manage. Eric took the phone from her hand and pressed the button, silencing the persistent beep. She was wading through the murkiness. “I have to go to Kentucky.”

“Hold on—”

“I’m her next of kin. I have to go—I have to make the arrangements—”

“Abigail, just slow down,” Because she was now on her feet, hurrying toward the stairs that led upstairs to their bedroom. “You need to breathe.”

“I have to—I have to go, Eric.” She climbed the stairs, shaking her head. “There’s so much I need to do. I have to call—the airport, I need to call the airport. And my dad—and work. Oh, god, Ingrid is going to lose it—I’ve got to pack—”

“You need to slow down.”

“There isn’t time for slowing down,” Abby was switching to autopilot. She worked best on autopilot in these situations. She veered left, hurrying into Eric’s office with him right behind.

She flipped through his rolodex until she found the number for the airport, quickly pushing the button, asking for the next flight to Nashville. Nashville was closer than Louisville—she’d made the flight a few times. It would be about an hour and a half drive to Allensville from the airport.

The soonest she could leave was a flight that left early in the morning—that gave her a few hours to get everything together and take care of everything that needed to be done in L.A. She booked the flight and hung up the phone, turning around to face her fiancé. “You only booked it for one.”

“Well there’s no need for you to go too.”

“Abigail, your best friend just died.”

“Exactly. She’s my best friend. It’s my responsibility—I’ll take care of it all.” She shrugged her shoulders, feeling nothing anymore and grateful for it. “Besides, you have that Jacobs case. You can’t miss out on that. What would the partners think?” She knew this was the best way to get him to stay behind. Appeal to his work ethic. It would be better off for both parties if Eric stayed behind.

“But they would understand, Abigail.” Even as he spoke, though, she could tell he didn’t really mean it.

“No—no, really, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” And just like that, he let it go.

“Should I do anything to help?” Perhaps if she had been in the right state, she would have been hurt by his quickness to settle. But feeling numb, as she did, she didn’t mind. It was what she wanted, after all.

“Drop me off at the airport? The flight leaves at six in the morning. I should get there a couple hours early.”

“What about sleep?”

“I’ll sleep on the flight.” She was making lists in her mind—things to pack, people to call, arrangements that would need to be made. Anything to distract her from the fact that not more than thirty minutes ago, she had just received the most earth-shattering information she’d ever received in her adult life. “I need to pack up a few things—and I should call my dad. He’d want to know.”

“Of course—whatever you need to do.” Abby nodded before gliding past him and into the bedroom, pulling her bags from the closet and riffling through the items that hung there. She began to pull things out at random at first, and then realized upon second thought that she wanted to put some thought into this. She owed it to her friend.

Abby busied herself for hours, keeping her mind distracted. There was quite a lot to be done she realized as she ran around tidying up, packing last minute items and finally taking a quick shower before she loaded up the car. Eric joined her moments later, sitting in the driver’s seat. Traffic was light and they made it there rather quickly.

“I’ll call when I get in,” she said, her hand on the door. Eric nodded.

“Be careful.”

“I will be.” She opened the door without so much as a second glance his way and hurried from the vehicle, needing to keep moving. She grabbed her bag from the trunk and waved over her shoulder before entering the large building.

She’d been navigating the airport since she was a little girl and so it was all familiar—menial tasks to take her mind off the reality