Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Arizona
T he sun dipped below the horizon, and my heart pounded with worry as I drove on the highway toward Rockwood. I had just finished sanitizing the stretcher and was loading it back into the ambulance when Lily called; her voice filled with panic. I sensed something was off with her lately, but hearing the tremble in her voice, filled with genuine fear, had made it clear my suspicions were correct.
Lily and I had been best friends since elementary school, when her parents moved to Sutton River from London, England, to live a quieter life. I’ll never forget the day she joined our class and sat next to me. Our bond was immediate. We were joined at the hip and constantly together—until one day, we weren’t.
After our high school graduation, her family abruptly packed up and left, leaving no sign of their presence. They vanished without a trace, leaving behind more questions than answers.
I was absolutely heartbroken.
Her disappearance felt like a death. Sudden, without explanation, leaving no opportunity to say goodbye. I grieved the friendship we once shared until she contacted me out of the blue through social media. Almost a decade had gone by, yet we fell right back into our old groove while consciously avoiding the unspoken question of why her family left in the first place. She asked for some time, and I respected her wishes.
While I initially was surprised when she chose to live in Rockwood, about forty-five minutes from Sutton River, I understood enough to know she sought the comfort of being back while maintaining a safe distance from those who knew her, specifically Jaxon. However, having known him my entire life, I knew for a fact that he still grappled with her disappearance and feared the worst. It was the number one reason he became a police officer versus a firefighter, unlike his twin, Jameson, and their father.
Lily being back was the hardest secret I’d ever had to keep. Jaxon, without a doubt, would move heaven and earth for her if only given the chance. But none of that mattered until I could uncover the root of what was holding her back and weighing on her mind.
Once I parked my Jeep, I sprinted across the parking lot and raced up the six flights of stairs to her place. Using my spare key, I let myself in. The apartment was cloaked in darkness; the only light provided came in the form of shadows from the city lights outside.
“Lils?” I tested the silence before heading toward her bedroom.
When I reached the end of the hallway, the door was ajar, and it was just as dark as the rest of the condo. I turned on the flashlight feature on my phone and called out her name once more, catching a faint sniffle in response.
“Lily, it’s Arizona,” I said as I approached the bifold closet doors. “I’m going to open the door, okay?”
A sense of relief washed over me, only to be swiftly overshadowed by heavy concern when I saw her, wide-eyed and panicked, curled up in the corner.
“Ari,” she sobbed, trembling as I fell to my knees and wrapped my arms around her.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” I murmured. “I’ve got you.”
My heart broke for her, as it was clear she was in a state of panic. Her breaths were coming in short, and I could feel her heart racing against my chest.
“I’m so sorry, Ari, I’m so sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for; this is what best friends do. We’re here for each other without questions and or judgment.”
“I know this is a bad hiding spot, and he’s right, but I couldn’t help it. I had to hide; I know it’s risky, but it’s our spot.” Her words were shaky and didn’t make any sense. “It’s our spot.” She repeated those last three words over and over until her voice faded to a barely audible whisper.
“Lils, I need you to take deep breaths for me, okay? Let’s do it together; breathe in slowly through your nose and hold it for four seconds.”
She struggled initially, but gradually, her breathing started to even out.
“You’re doing great.” I kept encouraging her.
Once I sensed the tension ease from her body, I helped her up off the floor and guided her to her bed. I switched on the bedside lamp and asked, “Can you list five things you can see around the room?”
She looked up at me through tear-streaked lashes before scanning her surroundings. As a nurse, she knew I was using the five senses grounding technique and didn’t question me.
“My dresser, a photo collage of us when we were kids, a succulent plant, blackout curtains, and my slippers.”
“Great! Now, how about four things you can touch?”
“My bedding, my decorative pillows, my necklace, and you,” she said, placing her hand on my knee with a timid smile.
“And what about three things you can hear?” I asked.
“The fan, the outside traffic, and my breathing.”
“Can you name two things you smell?”
She inhaled deeply. “The fabric softener from my bedding and my diffuser.”
“Amazing, last one, tell me one thing you can taste.”
I watched as she rubbed her lips together. “My cherry lip balm.”
“You did so good! How are you feeling now?”
“Embarrassed,” she quickly answered.
“There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. You saw me at my absolute lowest when my mom passed. There’s literally nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Would you help me hide a body?”
Her voice was low, and it took me a second to process what I thought I had heard. “Um, are you being real right now?”
“No, of course not. It was a joke.”
She did her best to brush it off, but the unsettling feeling I had from earlier was back. Something was definitely amiss.
“I know you haven’t wanted to talk much about your past since you left . . . is there something else I should know? It might help to talk about it.”
She shook her head vehemently while avoiding my eyes.
“How often do you have these panic attacks?” I asked.
“It’s been a while.”
“Did something happen to trigger it?”
Her complexion paled as the color drained from her face.
“Lils, it’s me.” I squeezed her hand in reassurance. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind; it will pass.”
“Sometimes confiding in someone we trust can help lighten the weight we’re carrying. It took me a long time to learn this, and to be honest, it’s still a struggle some days. That being said, keeping your thoughts locked inside can cause them to spiral, magnifying them to the point where we feel absolutely powerless.”
I shifted my body and sat beside her on the bed, leaning against the tufted headboard.
“Just know I’m here if and when you want to talk.” She leaned her head on my shoulder as her tears returned. “Sometimes, the scariest part of opening up is the feeling that we are going to be judged, and I promise you, that won’t happen, not with me, not ever.”
I held out my pinky finger, hoping she’d understand.
“Thank you.” She exhaled, lifting her hand to seal our pinky promise to one another.
“Are you sleeping?”
“Not really.” She shrugged, stifling a yawn.
Sleep deprivation was a beast and would only exaggerate the problem, I knew from personal experience.
“Are you on shift tomorrow?”
“Yes, eight a.m.”
“Let’s try and get some sleep then.”
We’d had countless sleepovers, both as children and adults, since she returned, so I knew exactly where to find a spare T-shirt and a pair of shorts from in her dresser before slipping under the covers. Typically, I would sleep on the couch in the living room; however, whenever either of us was upset, it was an unspoken rule that we would stay together.
As she lay on her side, I stared into the darkness above me, inhaling the soothing scent of eucalyptus from the diffuser on her bedside table. I found myself torn between worrying about how to better support Lily and my desperate need for sleep. It had been a long day, and knowing I had to head out early to make it back to Sutton River for my shift didn’t help matters since thinking of ways that I could help her took priority over sleep.
Outside, the noise from the bustling city traffic had since died down, leaving her bedroom relatively quiet until I heard the faint sound of her tears. I turned onto my side and gently rubbed her back—a comforting gesture she often offered me when I was upset. It helped settle my mind when my thoughts were swirling like a violent storm. I just hoped it had the same calming effect on her in return.