“Doesn’t mean it’s right.” There was a calculating look in his eye, but I ignored it—we were running late, a quick glance at my watch confirmed that, and now I had more of a purpose for wanting to come here to this center. More reason to do nothing that would jeopardize this new routine that was starting to settle into place, so we needed to make sure we didn’t break our house rules.
“We need to go,” he agreed, but his eyes were burning into mine, like the sun pierced the darkness in a morning.
It made me feel warm and shivery all at the same time.
“Be safe,” he urged, and with a grunt, he pulled away and climbed onto his bike.
Twice, he turned back to look at me as he rode off, and twice, I was there, watching him.
It meant I had to half jog to school but damn, it was worth it.
I felt like I was flying on a cloud for most of that morning, and even into the afternoon, nothing could get me down.
School passed, the day with it, and it seemed like two minutes until I was walking into the Majors’ house.
The second I did, I felt it.
The change in the air.
It might as well have been a scent, it was that powerful. Or a foghorn that was loud enough to pierce your eardrums.
My happiness instantly crashed as I slipped inside, and the truth was confirmed when I heard Emma screaming out her sorrow as Jon sobbed with her.
Louisa had taken a turn for the worse.
And the shadows of her aura that tainted her bedroom had begun to slip into the rest of the house. Staining it with the poison of death.
I bit my bottom lip, uncertain if I should go to them. I wanted to. I wanted to offer them some kindness, tell them that all would be well, but it wasn’t... It just didn’t feel right.
It felt like I’d be intruding on their grief, and that was the last thing I wanted.
Hovering in the hall, the urge to call Adam, to connect with him, was overwhelming. But I didn’t have a cellphone. Nor did I want one, but if it put me in touch with him, then I figured that was going to have to change.
A keening sob escaped Emma, filling me with a melancholy I hadn’t experienced in years. I jerked at the sound, feeling like her grief was a gunshot wound that pierced my very heart.
A mother’s love should be like that. All-encompassing. Taking over everything. Louisa was lucky to have a mom who would do anything for her. Give up her job to be her caretaker, do anything in her power to make her better—they’d even flown across the States to several specialists, trips that hadn’t done any good in the long run.
There were pictures of the family in Ronald McDonald Houses around the nation, Louisa looking more wan and more tired in each and every one.
Sorrow filled me, and I could no more stop myself from heading for Louisa’s room than I could have called Adam with my imaginary cellphone.
The carpet beneath me disguised the sound of my tread, and as I moved away from the hall, I recognized that Emma and Jon weren’t actually in the house. I figured they must be in the garden out back, and because Emma tended to keep the windows open for fresh air to come in and wash away the lingering scent of illness that permeated everything in the house, I’d overheard her pain.
Stepping into Louisa’s bedroom made me feel like I was a cat burglar. It wasn’t that I couldn’t come in here, that it wasn’t allowed, it was just that I didn’t visit often unless I could help out.
Louisa frequently slept the days away, and I felt like more of a hindrance than a help.
Kenny and I were only here because of Louisa, because the family needed extra funds. Though we were surplus to requirements, except for the cash we brought in, I thought it was unkind to ram that fact home with Louisa. She had precious time left on this earth, and she was with her family. I didn’t want to remind her of something that might hurt her—that, in her final days, she had to share her parents, even if it was only minimally, and that her mother and father were in dire straits because of her illness.