I don’t know,” he said, sounding as lost as I felt. “None of us know. Ye rang me from Bailey’s phone, ye left me a voicemail as you were in the car with her, but it’s only left me with more questions than answers.”
I leaned back and stared up at him with wide eyes.
“A voicemail?” I repeated. “I left you a voicemail. D’you still have it? Let me hear it!”
Elliot hesitated for only a moment before he removed one arm from around my body so he could take out his phone. He looked from the phone to me, then back to the phone as he tapped on the screen. He put it on loudspeaker, and we listened.
“Elliot? Elliot? Shit, shit, shit! It’s his voicemail!”
I jolted the second my voice sounded.
“Help us,” I sobbed, clearly terrified. “Oh God. Please, I don’t know what to do! Bailey, what’re we gonna do? It’s so dark, put the high beams on.”
I stared at the phone, a feeling of helplessness filling me. It was my voice I was hearing, mine . . . and I had no memory of ever speaking these words that I was saying with such fear.
“Oh God, oh God!” my voice continued to sob. “Bailey, you’re going too fast!”
The line began to break up somewhat, and it made me tense.
“Tulse Hill,” I said on the call. “Elliot, we’re on – Bailey, slow down!”
“I’m tryin’!” Bailey’s sweet but scared voice screamed. “I can’t stop, it’s black ice! We’re slidin’!”
“Elliot!” my voice blared as the line began to break up. “Elliot, help us. Tulse Hill . . . Please, please . . . going to kill . . . Bailey! Look out!”
A scream from Bailey made my blood run cold. The call ended and I looked up at Elliot.
“Was that when we crashed?” I asked, hearing the worry in my own voice. “Was that . . . was that the moment we crashed and Bailey di-died?”
Elliot was shaking now too as he nodded.
“Elliot,” I whimpered, “what the fuck happened? Why did we sound so scared? I said the words ‘going to kill’ . . . what the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, his voice filled with frustration and devastation. “I don’t know what any of it means. I don’t, Noah.”
Shame filled me, and so did self-loathing. This was my fault. I had pushed Bailey away along with everyone else in my life, and the one time I got back in touch with her, she died. I broke out of Elliot’s hold and stumbled away from him. I took a few steps back so I could see them. All three of them. Elliot’s parents were staring at me, and so was Elliot. Pity. Each of them looked at me with pity.
“How can you look at me?” I screamed at him, at his parents. “How can any of you look at me? I killed her. If she wasn’t with me, she’d be here and not down there! It’s my fault. I killed Bailey!”
“No!” Elliot bellowed. “It’s not. None of this is your fault.”
“How do you know?” I cried. “You can’t answer because you don’t know, Elliot.”
“I know here.” He smacked his hand on his chest. “Me heart tells me it’s not your fault.”
I lifted a shaking hand to my throbbing head as I began to break everything down.
“This is why Doctor Abara never told me about the accident, why he said it wasn’t his place . . . he knew Bailey was . . . he knew she was . . .”
I couldn’t even say the word.
“Yes,” Elliot answered, taking a small step towards me. “Doctor Abara had been monitoring ye for a while. How ye reacted to things ye couldn’t remember was so dangerous, Noah. He feared ye’d have an aneurysm and die. He decided it was best to keep ye in the dark as much as possible . . . we all agreed with him.”
“Ye should’ve told me,” I said, looking back at Bailey’s cross. “I should’ve known so I could . . . so I could . . .”
“Ye were so vulnerable when ye woke up, honey,” Mrs McKenna said. “It’s why we never visited – we both knew we couldn’t look at you, or talk to ye, without breakin’ down. Elliot is stronger than us . . . he never left your side.”
I looked back at them, and Elliot must have seen something in my face, or in my eyes, because he was in my space in seconds.