Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vanessa
Like a toddler who wasn't getting their way, I was hiding in my room, refusing to speak to the people who were downstairs probably talking about me.
Valerie was sweet to hold my job for me even though I didn't deserve it. But that was just who she was as a person. Always kind and willing to help others. I saw it day in and day out while I worked for her for the six months before everything went to shit.
I loved working for Valerie. It was the first time in my life that I felt like I was doing something for me rather than always helping my younger sister.
See the problem with being the older sibling and your mother dying during childbirth was that even though I was only nine years old when Hannah was born, I was thrust into the roll of caretaker.
Don't get me wrong, our father was great, but he didn't know the first thing about raising girls, and he had loved our mother so much that the idea of finding love again never even crossed his mind. At least, that was what I assumed since he never dated.
But taking care of Hannah meant that I was forced to grow up quickly and I never got to experience being a kid.
The only downside of that was because I didn't experience it, it meant I wanted it so badly for my sister that I hovered and enabled her for far too long.
Producing what was now a person who felt like I had to solve all of her problems even though she was twenty-six years old.
Speak of the devil. The name of my sister's rehabilitation facility flashed on my phone screen and practically begged to be answered. Taking shallow breaths because anything deep would hurt my ribs, I picked up before the call could ring out.
"Hello?" I answered not knowing if it would be my sister or one of the facility workers calling to let me know things weren't going well like they had done in the past.
I nearly sighed in relief when it was my sister's voice that responded back.
"Oh thank God, you answered." My sister sounded worried, and it immediately put me on edge. That was my constant state anytime I had to deal with her.
"What's wrong?"
"Please tell me you have the information Joel is looking for?" The desperation in her voice had my hackles rising.
Joel was my sister's drug dealer and the reason for my current mess.
"I'm working on it." I did my best to keep the aggravation out of my tone even though I wanted to go through the phone and strangle her.
"Well, work faster. Joel is getting impatient."
She didn't have to tell me that. I had the broken ribs to prove it.
Then what she said sunk in, and the aggravation I was feeling seconds before turned into full-blown pissed off.
"How the hell do you know Joel is getting impatient?"
Hannah was supposed to have limited contact to the outside world. Myself and our father were supposed to be the only people she was allowed to talk to. We paid heavily to make sure that was the case.
"He sent one of his guys to rehab to pass on the message." Terror laced her tone, and I could understand why. Rehab was supposed to be a safe place for her, and it obviously wasn't anymore.
That son of a bitch. I could kill him for what he was putting my family through even though a small part of me realized it was partially my sister's fault. If she hadn't started doing drugs in college, then we wouldn't be in this predicament to begin with.
"When was this?"
"An hour ago. He also said you should've gotten your own message last night. That's why I called. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
No, her first concern had been to save her own ass, but I didn't bother to mention it because it would only start an argument, and that wouldn't be good. An agitated Hannah would seek out drugs, and I could bet money on the fact that whoever Joel sent would also be trying to slip her some.
I made a mental note to contact the head nurse just as soon as I got off the phone with Hannah.
"What is the patient's name?"
I waited as Hannah rattled it off. I didn't recognize the person, but I didn't expect to.
I wasn't familiar with anyone from her world these days.
All of the friends that I used to know have since stopped talking to Hannah after she pissed them off in one way or another by either stealing from them or borrowing money and never returning it.
"Do me a favor and stay away from them," I pleaded with her.
"I'll do my best," Hannah whined, and I sighed.
It had only been three weeks since I placed Hannah in rehab for the fourth time, but I knew from her previous stays, that three weeks was nothing. If the chance presented itself for her to start using again, she absolutely would. It was a battle I feared I would never win.
We said our goodbyes, and I waited for Hannah to hang up before calling the facility back.
"Nurse Sarah, please," I asked the operator as soon as they answered the phone.
It was several moments before the nurse got on the phone. "Hey, Sarah. It's Vanessa Scarflo…" I then went on to explain the situation and gave her as much information as I could with the little that I knew. By the time I was done talking, I was out of breath, and my ribs ached.
"I'll make sure to let the staff know that they're to be kept apart."
I already knew there wasn't much else they could do even if I threw more money at them. It wasn't like they would kick someone out based solely on my recommendation, but at least I could say I tried to help my sister. That was the best I could do at the moment.
That was all I was ever doing for my sister. Cleaning up her messes and trying my best to stop new ones from happening.
I was failing, though. Hannah couldn't hold down a job to save her life.
The trust fund that our parents put aside for her was blown partying.
Mine was practically depleted from all the rehab stays I was paying for.
If this time didn't work out, then I didn't know what I was going to do the next time she needed to go into one.
My father would help pay, but even he didn't have the capital to finance my sister and her lifestyle forever. I was at a loss and didn't know what to do anymore.
The tiny voice in the back of my head kept reminding me that I needed to let my sister hit rock bottom and to stop saving her, but I couldn't do that. My mother would be so disappointed in me.