CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ellery
Twelve Years Ago
“Ellery?”
“What?” My eyes are bleary and after staring at the computer for hours, I feel like I have a pound of sand in them.
My finals are brutal this year. Aren’t they always?
But nothing but the best is allowed in the Sinclair/Haywood household.
Not even when they’re the last finals I’m ever going to take as a high schooler.
Sullying the Haywood family name with mediocrity isn’t something that will be tolerated as I was once so blatantly told. “I said what?” I snap.
I know I’ll be reprimanded. Garland Haywood always demands respect. Being snippy or talking back isn’t deemed respectful even if it’s two in the freaking morning.
“Elle?” His reaction is the exact opposite of what I expected. It’s quiet when I expected loud. Subdued when I anticipated agitation.
When I look up, I know something is wrong.
My fingers pause on my keyboard.
My body tenses.
And before he says another word, I already know. I’ve had this feeling once before.
“Mom?” Her name is a hoarse whisper, and the world slowly falls out from under me.
“Ellery—”
“Stop saying my name,” I shout, hoping I’ll never hear it again. Ever. He starts to speak, but I cover my ears like a little girl. Like I did when my mom told me that my dad was gone.
He steps into my room, his eyes locked on mine, and for a man normally devoid of all emotion, the lone tear that escapes and drops down his cheek confirms what I already know.
No.
No.
No!
This can’t be happening.
Why is this happening?
Not again.
Please not again.
Don’t do this to me, Mom.
Don’t you fucking leave me too.
I rise from my desk. Each step he takes toward me is another I take backward, head shaking, the word no on repeat.
“I’m sorry, Elle. There was a car accident. A drunk driver crossed the median . . . I’m so sorry.” My fists beat against his chest as he tries to gather me against him.
I don’t want him.
I don’t want his comfort.
I just want my mom.
Mom, how can you leave me here too?
I can’t. I can’t do this again. This constant, never-ending pain.
Why did you leave me?
I’ve done this before. I know the drill. The steps to go through. The words to say to pretend I’m okay. The pain that comes when the door closes . . . and everyone is gone. The feel of warm tears sliding down my cheeks and onto the pillow.
The pretending that everything is going to be okay . . . when you know your world is irrevocably, tragically changed.
I’ll never go through this again.
There’s no one left to lose.
Now, I’m truly alone.
Everyone I’ve ever loved has died.
Numb.
There are no other words to describe what I feel. I don’t even have the power to ask how. I feel . . .
Gray.
The world has been leeched of color without her to brighten it up.
Everyone leaves.
Loving me is simply not enough of a reason to stay.