Chapter 25
Jillian
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Jillian's stomach knotted the moment she stepped into her mother's room. Her mom sat curled in the recliner, hands trembling, eyes wide and unfocused. She looked like a child lost in a store, searching for a familiar face that wasn't there.
"Hey, Mom?" Jillian whispered, stepping closer.
Her mother flinched, shaking her head as if to keep Jillian away. As if she were a stranger.
"No, please," her mother said, voice thin and frightened. "Don't take me. I'm waiting for my daughter. She's coming. She always comes."
Jillian's heart cracked cleanly in her chest. "Mom... it's me. Jillian. I'm right here."
Her mother shook her head violently, pressing herself deeper into the chair. "No. No, I'm waiting for my baby. She can't be by herself yet. She brings me flowers from the yard. Go away. You're not her."
Jillian swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. "Mom, please. Look at me."
Her mother turned away from her, refusing to look at her.
Pamela, the evening nurse, stepped into the room quietly, her expression soft with practiced compassion. "She's having a rough day."
"I can help," Jillian said, even though she already knew she couldn't.
Though she worked in the nursing home, she wasn't a professionally trained nurse. She worked in the laundry room and helped in the cafeteria, so she could be close to her mom.
Pamela clicked her tongue. "I don't think you can help her today.
She's stuck in a memory loop. The best thing you can do is let her stay in it.
If you try to bring her back to the present, she'll keep trying to reconcile who you are with who she remembers.
When the pieces don't fit, it scares her. "
Jillian's throat tightened. "I don't want to leave her like this."
"I know," the nurse said gently. "Let me take care of her tonight. I'll stay with her until she's settled."
Jillian looked at her mother. At the fear in her eyes, the confusion, the way she clutched the blanket like a lifeline. There was nothing Jillian could do to pull her out of the world her mind had retreated into. Nothing she could say to make her remember.
Leaving was the only kindness she had left.
She leaned down and kissed her mother's forehead. Her mother didn't react. Didn't recognize the touch. Didn't know her.
"Goodnight. I love you," Jillian whispered.
She walked out before her voice broke and the tears escaped.
Moe was waiting for her in the lobby, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He noticed her mood right away and stepped forward, taking her hand in his.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head. "No."
He nodded once, like he'd expected that. "Come on. Let's get some air."
She followed him out of the building, across the parking lot, and to his Harley. Without a word, she put on the helmet and climbed behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. It was becoming their nightly ritual. A habit she looked forward to the most.
Dusk had landed, and the first stars were peeking out. The air smelled like fir and cool earth. It was one of the things she loved about the Pacific Northwest.
Instead of taking her home, Moe stopped at the park a block from the house and led her over to a bench beneath a tall maple tree. Jillian stared at the ground, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
Moe waited. He never pushed after she'd had a rough day.
He just let her breathe until she gained more control over her emotions.
Some days were worse than others. Today, her mom was lost to her.
She was more comfortable with strangers than with her own daughter.
It was something she had to accept. It was one of the reasons why she made the decision to put her mom in the nursing home.
Finally, she whispered, "She didn't know me."
Moe grunted softly.
"She thought I was someone trying to take her away." Jillian swallowed hard. "She was terrified of me."
Moe nodded slowly. "Memory loss is its own kind of darkness."
Jillian looked up at him, startled by his opinion.
He continued, "That darkness takes pieces of a person until there's nothing left but shadows. It doesn't have to be violent or loud. It just slowly... steals."
Unshed tears burned her eyes. "It's taking her from me. Every day I see her getting worse."
Moe's gaze softened. "And that's why you're fighting so hard."
"What do you mean?" She blinked.
Moe leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You're comparing the darkness in Everstill to the darkness taking your mom. You're seeing them as the same kind of thief. And you're deciding you're not letting either one win."
Jillian's breath caught because he was right.
The shadow in her house wasn't the only thing trying to break her. Her mother's fading memory was too. Both were stealing pieces of her life. Both were taking someone she loved.
And she was done losing.
"I'm not going to lose," Jillian whispered.
Moe nodded. "I didn't think you would."
"I'm staying," she said, voice stronger now. "I'm staying with you. I'm staying in this fight. I'm not letting Everstill win. And I'm not letting fear take me."
Moe's expression softened. "That's your choice."
"It is," Jillian said. "I choose you."
"I fucking needed to hear that, sweetheart." Moe exhaled slowly, almost relieved. "I need you."
Jillian looked up at the sky, at the first faint stars. "Will my mom be okay without me?"
Tonight had shown her that her love was hurting her mom. She could love from a distance if that was best for her.
"She'll be okay because of you." Moe stood, offering her his hand. "Let's get you home."
She took it, feeling something fierce and unbreakable grow inside her. She was a fighter. She'd made her choice.