Chapter 25 – Kenna-Past
Chapter Twenty-Five
SENTENCED TO SILENCE
KENNA-PAST
The days after Cole was released from the hospital and taken to jail are a blur. It feels like I’m walking through fog, everything muted and slow. Time doesn’t seem to move at the usual pace.
Every morning I wake up hoping it was all just a bad dream, but the reality of the situation smacks me in the face all over again.
I haven’t seen Cole at all. He’s behind bars, and I’m here, feeling more alone with each passing minute.
The thought of him in that cold, stark cell fills me with a helpless ache.
It gnaws at my insides like something insatiable.
I just want to hold him, to tell him everything will be okay, but that’s a luxury I can’t afford right now.
All I can do is wait, not knowing when I’ll be able to see him, or if I ever will.
Every time I close my eyes, I picture myself in his body—unconscious in that car, the flash of the crash still haunting me.
It’s like I can’t escape it. The memory of how the car crumpled, how his body was so still, and the sound of sirens echoing in my mind—it won’t go away.
It’s like a ghost that follows me everywhere I go, a reminder that I wasn’t there when he needed me most.
I can’t stop thinking about how everything led to this moment.
What happened at that party, how I wasn’t there, how I didn’t follow him.
Maybe if I had, none of this would have happened.
I should have been there with him. I keep going over everything in my head, as if somehow by replaying it all I could fix things, to reverse what’s already been done.
But now he’s in jail, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
I feel lost, like I’ve been tossed into a current I can’t escape, and it’s pulling me further away from everything I thought I knew.
I try to distract myself with the day-to-day, but it’s impossible.
School, chores, anything that used to be a normal part of my routine is now just a blur.
I can’t focus. I can’t sleep. My taste buds have stopped working.
My mind is always on Cole, on what’s happening to him, on the unfairness of it all.
I’m trying to hold it together, but it’s like I’m living in a constant state of panic.
Even my reflection looks like someone else. Sunken eyes. Pale lips. I stare at myself in the mirror and barely recognize the girl I used to be. That girl is gone, and I don’t know if I’ll get her back.
The only things that help at all are Reuben and Asher.
They’re the only ones who really seem to understand.
I’ve been leaning on them heavily. They’ve been there, talking me through the chaos, trying to make me feel better, but no matter what they say, it never seems to stick.
At first, they tried to reassure me that Cole wasn’t drunk when the accident happened, that he had been drinking but not enough to be completely out of control.
They told me he was fine when he left. They said the crash wasn’t really his fault, that it was just an accident.
But what does that even mean anymore? What does “fine” mean when you end up in jail, when the person you love is being dragged through this mess?
What does “fine” mean when your life gets turned upside down in one night?
Even now, their voices echo in my head.
“He was just trying to get home.”
“It wasn’t like he was wasted.”
“He looked shaken before he left. I think something was bothering him.”
And maybe that’s the part that guts me the most—because I wasn’t there to see it. I wasn’t there to help him. He was spiraling, and I missed it.
One evening, Reuben pulls me aside. He’s been quiet lately, and I can tell he’s holding something in.
His face is tight, like he’s trying to contain his own pain, his own worries.
He wraps his arms around me, and I break.
I can’t keep it in any longer. My tears soak his shirt, and I let myself fall apart in his arms, because right now, that’s the only thing I can do.
“Reuben, I just want him back,” I sob, my voice barely a whisper. “I want to kiss him. I miss him holding me. I want to feel safe with him again. I want my boyfriend back. I want everything to go back to how it was before all of this.”
The words sound hollow, like I’m trying to bring something back that’s already been shattered. I feel like a part of me is missing, like something has been ripped out of my chest, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Reuben doesn’t hesitate. He holds me tighter, rubbing my back as if trying to soothe me, but his voice cracks when he speaks. “I know, Kenna. I know. If there was something I could do to make it all go away, I would. But it’s not that simple.”
“I don’t know how I’ll survive if he goes to prison, Reuben,” I say, my words breaking apart. I choke on the sentence, my heart constricting with the fear of the unknown. “Ten years...ten years without him. It feels like a lifetime. How am I supposed to go on without him?”
The room falls silent. I’m not sure if Reuben knows what to say either. He just looks at me, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrors my own. I see the weight of his own grief in his expression. We both know that Cole’s fate is out of our hands.
After a long moment, Reuben reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. His voice is steady, but I can hear the strain in it. “You’re going to be okay,” he says, though I can tell he doesn’t entirely believe it. “And so is Cole. We’re all here for you, Kenna. You’re not alone in this.”
The words are comforting, but they don’t reach deep enough. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this.
I fall to pieces again. Mourning the life that should have been mine, the life Cole and I dreamed of. I weep for the parts of my life that are vanishing and the dreams that are dissolving. I cry for the love that feels like it’s slipping out of my grasp.
“He’s the love of my life, Reuben,” I say, my voice breaking as I say the words I’ve been too afraid to admit. “It sounds crazy, but I don’t know what to do without him. I love him so much. I just—I don’t want to lose him.”
Reuben doesn’t respond at first, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something that makes it worse. But he just holds me tighter. After a few moments, he finally speaks, his voice soft and full of compassion.
“I know, Kenna,” he says. “I know. And I don’t think you’ll lose him. But you have to be strong now. Not just for you, but for him too. He needs you more than ever.”
His words hit me like a wave, crashing over me and making it harder to breathe. He’s right. I can’t fall apart completely. I have to keep going. For Cole. For me. For all of us.
But as the days pass, I still can’t shake the feeling of helplessness. I try to distract myself, to keep busy, but it’s impossible. Every time I close my eyes, the image of Cole in that hospital bed flashes before me. His body, bruised and broken, makes me feel like I’m drowning in fear.
The night before the hearing, I sit alone in my room.
My phone is within reach, and for the hundredth time tonight, I hover over it.
I want to text Cole. He needs to know I’m here.
I love him, and I won’t quit. I want to reassure him he’s not alone.
But I don’t know what to say. The words feel stuck, like they’re trapped in my chest, just out of reach.
So, I do what I always do when I feel overwhelmed. I type.
“I love you, Cole,” I type, my fingers trembling as I write the words. “You’re going to get through this. I’ll be right here, supporting you every step of the way.”
I stare at the screen, my heart aching in my chest, but I don’t hit send.
The tears come again, unstoppable. I feel like I’m drowning in them.
The future we were supposed to have, the plans, the promises—all of it feels so far away.
I turn my phone off, bury myself in my covers, and try to sleep.
But sleep is elusive. Every time I close my eyes, I see him—the broken, battered version of him in that hospital bed. The pain doesn’t stop.
I press the pillow tighter against my chest, like it might make the ache go away. Like it could be him. But it’s not. And it never will be.
The morning of the hearing is the worst I could have imagined.
My stomach is in knots. I feel like I’m about to be sick.
I barely touch my breakfast. My dad is already downstairs, reading over papers with a grim look on his face.
My mom moves around the kitchen, her movements mechanical.
It feels like the entire world is on pause, holding its breath.
“Kenna, we need to talk,” my dad says as soon as I walk in. His voice is tight, and I can tell he’s been holding something in. He doesn’t look up from the paper he’s holding, but I can see the tension in his posture.
“I’ve been doing some research,” he continues, and I can hear the concern in his voice. “The best-case scenario is that Cole gets five years. Worst-case, it’s ten. The minimum is three, but don’t get your hopes up.”
The weight of his words presses down on me. Three years. Ten years. None of it seems real. Ten years without him...I feel like I’m suffocating.
I nod, trying to process everything. I need to be strong. For Cole. For me. For all of us. But inside, my mind is spiraling. How will I survive this? How will I survive without him?
As we get ready to leave, I pull out a dress—a floral one. It’s the one Cole always tells me looks good on me. I know it’s silly, but I want him to see me, to know I’m still here, still holding on, even if I don’t know what’s coming next.
When I walk downstairs, my parents are already in the car. My dad gives me a sidelong glance.
As I climb in, I see the concern in his eyes. But I’m more worried about what happens next. What happens when we walk into that courtroom? What happens when I see Cole again?
The courthouse is a blur. The walls close in around me as we walk through the hallways.
My legs feel shaky, but I can’t stop moving.
When I finally make it to the courtroom, my heart races in my chest. I can’t breathe.
Though I don’t spot Cole at first, I can feel that he’s here.
I know he’s here somewhere in the room. And then, I see him.
He’s sitting in a chair, dressed in a suit, and for a split second, I don’t recognize him.
He looks so different, so distant. His eyes meet mine, and for just a moment, I think I see a spark of hope in them.
But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
The man I love is sitting there, so broken and distant.
I want to run to him, to throw myself into his arms and tell him everything will be okay. But I can’t. I’m frozen in place, just staring at him. The world around me seems to fall away, and all I can see is him. The boy I love, trapped in a nightmare I don’t know how to fix.
The trial begins. I watch him plead guilty. The words rip through me. He’s taking responsibility for what happened, but it’s clear that it’s killing him inside. He’s not the same person who left for that party. And then the worst moment comes.
The judge speaks, and I hear the words that will change everything.
“I’ve come to a decision. I am sentencing Cole Parker to ten years at Glenwood Correctional Facility,” the judge says, his voice cold and final.
It’s like the world has stopped moving. My chest tightens.
I can’t breathe. I can hear my dad’s voice, but it feels like it’s coming from far away.
His hands are on me, pulling me out of the room, but I’m not really there.
I feel like I’m floating. Ten years. Ten years without Cole.
My entire world has shattered, and I don’t know how to put it back together.
The tears come again, uncontrollable. I can’t stop them. I feel like my entire life is falling apart.
Ten years.
Ten years without him. How will I survive that?