A Five-Minute Life - Emma Scott Page 0,75

entire drawer, and upturned it on the bed.

“You can’t leave,” Delia said.

“Watch me.”

I went to the closet, grabbed my new clothes off the hangers and dumped them too.

“Miss Hughes,” Rita said, appearing at the door, breathlessly. “Is everything all right?”

I whirled on her, hand outstretched and fingers trembling. “Give me the Hazarin, Rita.”

“She can’t do that,” Delia said. “Rita, can you leave us, please?”

Rita hesitated.

“Don’t go,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please…”

“Nurse Soto,” Delia snapped.

“I’ll be right out here,” Rita said to me, her eyes pleading. She stepped outside and closed the door.

“I hate you,” I seethed at my sister.

“You are going to listen to reason,” Delia said, her eyes blazing. “For the first time in your life.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not listening to you. I’m going to write a letter to a judge to rescind your power of attorney. I looked it up. I can—”

“I’ll fight it,” Delia said calmly. “So long as the doctors say—”

“Why?” I demanded incredulously. “What is going on with you? And why do you hate Jim? Why is the idea of me being with him so hard to take? Or me being awake at all?”

“It’s not—”

“You act like you wish I hadn’t had this procedure.”

“That’s not true—”

“Then why can’t you let me go?”

“Because I was going to leave and now I can’t.”

I froze. “What?”

The words fell from her mouth like stones. “I was going to leave you and marry Roger Nye. We were going to move to Vancouver. He got a job offer there a few weeks ago. We’re supposed to move in a month. But then the procedure came up and…”

I stared until she tore her gaze away.

“I’m a terrible, selfish person,” she said. “I know that. But I needed my life back. Then Brett Dodson was caught in your room, and I felt so guilty for even thinking you’d be okay here alone.”

I sank down on my bed beside the overturned drawer.

“Not only couldn’t I leave,” Delia said, “but I had to be here even more. I had to try to put everything back the way it was before you were assaulted. I nearly lost my job.” Her voice wavered. “I nearly lost Roger. And then Dr. Chen swooped in with her miracle procedure and the life I tried to scrape together blew up again. For the first time in two years, I didn’t know what was going to happen next. The script was torn up. Again, I tried to put things back where they were and keep you safe. I want that more than anything. More than my own happiness, I want you to be safe.”

A silence fell as I absorbed her words. “You’re going to marry Roger?” I asked finally. “You’re in love with him?”

She nodded. “Since junior high. Or… since forever, I guess.”

“You never told us.”

“I would have, eventually. I don’t like anyone in my business. You, Mom, and Dad were all so… emotional. They’d make a big deal about it. You’d make fun of me.”

“No, never—”

“Yes, Thea. You would.”

“I’d tease you, but ultimately I’d be happy for you. I am happy for you.”

“Despite knowing I was going to leave you?”

I swallowed. “That hurts. That hurts a lot, but I can’t blame you.”

“I thought you’d never know the difference,” Delia said. “All those absence seizures you had whenever you saw me? They’d stop. It would be better. You would be better. But it turns out you would’ve known I was gone, wouldn’t you? Deep down.”

I nodded. “You should still leave. You’ve been chained to me for two years. Maybe it’s time you went with Roger and built a life.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You can. I promise it’ll be okay.”

“You don’t understand—”

“I do, and I—”

“They died, Althea,” Delia cried. “The last time I left with Roger, our family was destroyed. Mom and Dad died. And now you want to run away and… What if something happens to you? I can’t do it again.”

I shook my head, my voice wavering. “You can’t live like this, Deel. You can’t make all of your decisions based on fear. You have to let go of it. Let me go. You don’t have to do anything anymore.”

She looked away, wiped her nose. “Someone has to.”

I saw her so clearly now. How she was forced to handle everything in the wake of the accident. How her fist clenched tight in a semblance of control.

“There’s no such thing,” I said.

She raised her head, confusion in her shining eyes.

“Control,” I said. “It doesn’t exist. You can try to control your

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