13. Margo
Chapter 13
Margo
M s. McCaw is prompt, and I am exhausted.
She doesn’t say anything about my messy hair or the dark circles under my eyes. I barely slept last night, and the school day was filled with stares and whispers. Inaudible whispers. It seemed like whenever I tried to overhear something, they moved along.
My shadows probably had something to do with that.
First it was Caleb. Then Theo. Liam. Eli. Caleb again, escorting me up the spiral steps to Robert’s classroom. There was a sub— of course —who read from a basic substitute teacher lesson plan. There wasn’t anything more in-depth, because the teacher in question has been unconscious since the accident.
We played with watercolors and called it a day, but even that was hard. The whole class was quiet, verging on forlorn. News had spread about Mr. Bryan. Everyone knew where he was.
Caleb brought me to the Bryans’ house, where Ms. McCaw meets me. We sit at the kitchen table, and every blink is painful. My eyes feel like sandpaper.
“He’s been moved out of ICU,” my social worker tells me. “I talked to Lenora this morning, to make sure you’d be able to see him.”
Caleb goes home. Ms. McCaw takes me to the hospital.
I watch the houses flash by from the passenger seat.
“You okay?” Ms. McCaw asks.
I shove away thoughts of Caleb and focus on her. She’s the one who had me believing my dad went to jail for drugs, not manslaughter .
“I tried to look up Dad’s trial coverage,” I say, watching her reaction.
She doesn’t flinch. “What were you hoping to find?”
“Anything,” I answer. “But… apparently he wasn’t sentenced for drug possession, or whatever you told me. He wasn’t dealing… or even using.”
Her lips purse, then smooth out. “I don’t remember saying anything about drugs.”
“What did he go away for, then?”
“Margo.” Her tone is exasperated. She opens and closes her hands on the steering wheel. “You were young. I’m sure you’re misremembering something. With your mother’s drug addiction, it would’ve been easy to transpose that onto your father.”
She’s trying to make me think I’m crazy.
I slowly nod. “You must be right.”
We’re quiet for a minute, and then she says, “It’s sad, really. Your parents… The whole thing is unfortunate.”
“Lydia came to see me, didn’t she?”
Angela hesitates, but only for a split second. “Lydia Asher? Um, yes, I think she did. She was like a second mother to you.”
I focus back on the road. We’re nearing the hospital.
I wonder what she’d say if I told her I went to see Dad. She’d probably freak out on me and the Bryans.
But… she never asked where we were coming from when the accident happened. So maybe she knows the only way we’d be out on that side of town would be if we were visiting the prison.
I shift. My hand feels for the knife in my pocket, and the knot in my chest loosens.
She stops in front of the hospital. “Lenora said she would take you to your therapy appointment, okay? Call me if you need anything.”
Need anything .
I need answers. The truth.
But I can’t really say that, now can I?
I get out and walk toward the entrance, but her voice calls me back. “Margo, sorry, I forgot! Here.”
She reaches toward the open passenger window, extending a cell phone toward me. “To replace your other one. It was recovered in the car at the scene of the accident, so the insurance covered the new one. Isn’t that great?”
It’s an upgraded version of my previous one.
I smile because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Thank her. The phone reminds me of the collision. Weird how these little things can be so triggering. But even so, it’ll be nice to be back in contact with Riley and Lenora. And Caleb.
She pulls away while I’m still looking down at it.
As long as Unknown hasn’t messaged me… But why would they? Their master plan succeeded.
Or did it?
I mean, Caleb is still a free man.
Taking a deep breath, I slip it into my jacket pocket, turn on my heel, and go into the hospital. I can deal with that later.
I have the room number on a piece of paper in my pocket. After helpful direction from a nurse, I step into a busy wing. Lenora sees me almost immediately and jogs toward me.
She throws her arms around me, hugging me close.
I breathe in her scent—a mix of lavender shampoo and perfume—and relish the fact that it’s become familiar already. It reminds me of safety. And while I just saw her yesterday, it feels longer. More than just wanting to settle back into normal… I want to go home .
“I’m glad you’re here. How are you feeling? How was school?” She brushes my hair back, scanning my face. Worry creases her eyebrows, and she briefly touches my forehead, near my stitches.
“It was fine. Caleb and his friends were being protective.”
She smiles. But while she’s concerned about me, she looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Her eyes are puffy, and she wears leggings and a baggy sweater. Clean clothes is a good sign.
“They’ve been letting me stay in his room on a cot now that he’s out of the ICU, but…” She tries to smile, but her chin wobbles.
Impulsively, I hug her again.
Her lips brush the top of my head, and I close my eyes.
“He’s going to be okay,” she whispers. “You’re safe. He’s safe.”
I blink back tears. “Okay.”
“He was asking for you.”
I pull back slightly. “He’s awake?”
“Yes, they just gave him breakfast. It’s the first meal he’s had…” She covers her mouth. “I’m just so thankful you both got through this.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I say, “I’m glad Caleb found me.”
Her face falls. “God, Margo, the police took him out of here so forcefully, I didn’t know what to think.”
“It wasn’t Caleb,” I say firmly.
“I believe you.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders and leads me down the hall. “And I know the detective was rather critical, but I wouldn’t let you stay in the same house as Caleb if I thought he had something to do with it.”
I tilt my head. “But… you did point the detective in Caleb’s direction while I was gone, didn’t you?”
“He asked if you were dating anyone. I didn’t realize he was going to single him out.”
Yeah. I wouldn’t have guessed it either.
We stop in front of a door to a private room.
“Are you ready to see Robert?”
We enter. He’s propped up in bed, a rolling table in front of him with a plate of food on it, and… so much medical equipment surrounds him. Wires disappear under his gown, there’s an IV taped to his arm. He has a tube under his nose for oxygen.
How can a person go from strong to so frail in days? His skin is pale. His face is covered in healing cuts and fading bruises, and his right arm is in a cast, slung to his chest.
This is my fault. I put him here.
I can’t move.
But I still catch his eye—or maybe it’s the snick of the door closing.
His whole damn face lights up.
And me? I burst into tears.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for me. He pushes the table away.
I’m stuck in guilt, my shoes glued to the floor. How do people overcome anguish?
“Margo.” His hand is still stretched toward me.
I finally move, venturing closer. They had intubated him for a collapsed lung, sedated him. And now…
“Come here,” he repeats. He scoots to the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.
I wipe at my face, but the tears keep coming. I finally sit next to him. Take his hand.
He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
There’s a thousand-pound weight on my chest. Slowly, I lie next to him. I curl my arm over his chest and lay my head on his shoulder.
He smooths my hair.
Wipes my cheeks.
He brushes my hair back from the cut on my forehead, and I feel his sharp intake of breath.
“That’s nice stitching,” he says. “Good as new, yeah? Both of us.”
“You—” I close my eyes. “No. You’re not good as new. You’re in a hospital bed. Your arm, your lung?—”
“All will heal.”
“It’s my fault,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry?—”
The guilt overwhelms me, and I choke on a sob. He hugs me closer. I fall apart, but he keeps whispering words I can’t make sense of. It’s okay , and We’re all right . But those are just things you say to make someone feel better.
I deserve to feel bad about this.
To be shipped off to a different foster home. To never see them again.
It would be a just punishment.
Fair.
So this? This is a goodbye.
This is putting my heart in a blender because I deserve pain over any form of happiness. Caleb knew that, made sure it was drilled into my head. Even my mother knew it—it’s why she left instead of choosing to fight for me.
He lets me cry into his chest without complaint. Eventually my tears will run out, but the grief is endless.
I sit up. Lenora comes farther into the room, a box of tissues in her hand. She offers me the box, and I take a few, dabbing at my eyes.
And then I force myself off the bed and go to the window, then suck in a deep breath. The weight is still there, crushing me.
“You should get rid of me,” I say to the glass. We’re on the fourth floor with a decent view. The hospital is the tallest building around. There’s the neighborhood, then a stretch of forest, and there my line of sight ends. “I’m no good. A danger, even.”
“Why would you say that?” Lenora asks.
“For the past three months, I’ve been…” I close my eyes. “Harassed? Stalked? I don’t know. By someone I don’t know. But then on Sunday, they?—”
“Margo—”
I spin around. “It’s my fault. They hit our car to get to me. And you were hurt because of me.”
I rub my chest. I can’t breathe again. My heart takes off, galloping out of control.
My fault , it chants with every beat.
Lenora guides me into a chair. “I think you’re having a panic attack.”
My fault. My fault.
I gasp, but I can’t seem to get any air. Black spots flash in front of my vision.
— what did you do, Margo? —
This wouldn’t the first time you destroyed a family .
“Breathe, honey,” Lenora says.
And then Robert is on his knees in front of me, his hands on my cheeks.
“With me, now,” he says. “In and out.”
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Lenora strokes his hair back. Her other hand is on my shoulder.
I take a moment to appreciate them both.
They’re grounding.
“Margo,” Robert says firmly. “We’re not sending you away. Len said you’re staying with the Blacks until I’m well enough to go home. It should be any day now, right?”
He sucks in a noisy breath, holds it, then blows it out.
I mimic him, and cool, sweet air rushes back into my lungs. We keep going until my heart has slowed. My hands shake, but I mask it by smoothing out my pants.
“We’re not giving you up,” he repeats. He uses the arm of the chair to lift himself off the floor. He makes it almost all the way straight before he doubles over.
“Robert!” Lenora yells, grabbing his arm. “What’s wrong?”
“My chest is on fire.” He coughs into his hand, then grimaces at it. One of the monitors behind his bed starts beeping.
I hadn’t realized he was still connected to them.
A second later, a nurse rushes into the room. “Robert, what are you doing out of bed?”
She guides him back into it, making sure everything is in place. The monitor is still going crazy. He rubs at his chest, shaking his head. He coughs again, and blood sprays across his blankets.
The nurse hits a button at the head of his bed while Lenora and I watch in horror. The air seems to be sucked from the room. His face goes deathly pale, and his eyes roll back a moment before he seems to go unconscious.
A team pours into the room, and Lenora and I are shuffled back against the window.
Robert jerks, surrounded by nurses, and they quickly flatten the bed.
“Get them out of here,” someone orders.
A nurse separates and herds us out, down the hall. I clutch at Lenora’s hand.
“What’s happening?” she demands.
“Looks like a complication with his chest tube,” the nurse explains. “Please wait here, I’ll be right back with more information.”
She leaves us in a waiting room.
Lenora drops into a chair and covers her face with her hands. “Death can’t take him, too.”
Oh God.
Why is it only just now occurring to me that her daughter died in a car accident?
I slip my arm through hers, drawing her hands away from her head. Slowly, as if I not to frighten her, I thread my fingers through hers.
She squeezes, turning away from the doorway and toward me.
“He’ll be okay.” It’s me this time, reassuring her. It’s a bravado.
He might not be. He might…
I close my eyes and hold on tighter, hanging on to my apology.
Cindy and Jeff, my last foster parents, would’ve urged us to pray about it. They thought God could fix everything He wanted to—and if things had a shitty outcome, well, at least we learned a lesson.
Utter bullshit.
I take off my jacket—I had forgotten I was even wearing it—and fold it over the arm of a chair. I sit and contemplate reaching for my new phone, but my hands are trembling too badly. Caleb is at hockey practice, I think. Riley might be home.
If I was in a better state, I’d reach out. Ask them for support. But it seems like an unnecessary burden, so I stay still.
Lenora paces by the door.
Finally, minutes or hours later, a doctor comes to see us.
“Robert was rushed into emergency surgery,” she says. “He has a pulmonary embolism. In other words, a blood clot in the lung. This particular kind he has can be quite severe.”
“Was it because he got out of bed?” I ask from the corner of the room, covering my mouth with my hands. Still, the words slip out before I can stop them.
Lenora shakes her head. “No.”
“The PE could’ve been caused by a number of things. We also discovered that the site of the chest tube had become infected.” The doctor clears her throat and focuses on me. “Was him getting out of bed the cause? Probably not. There’s no way to know for sure, so you shouldn’t think it was because of you.”
I bite my lip. Part of me doesn’t want to accept that dismissal of blame.
I can’t let it go.
“How long is the surgery? Is he… did you catch it in time?” Lenora asks.
“Removing the blood clot is a minimally invasive surgery. The surgeon is going to remove it and also clean out the infection. We’ll update you once we know more, but we caught it. That’s the important part.”
Lenora lets out a long breath at the same time my entire body shudders.
As soon as the doctor leaves, she falls into the seat next to me. “He can pull through this.”
“How do you do it?” I ask.
She tilts her head and raises her eyebrow.
“I mean… the emotions. Everything in the past week. How are you still standing?”
She lets out a little laugh. “I’m still standing?”
We’re quiet for a moment.
“No, I’m functioning. You’ll be surprised at how much you can endure before you shut down.” She blinks at the ceiling. “But, I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to scream. Every single moment he was in the ICU. Even now.”
I understand that.
“Love can be beautiful. But it can also be a terrible burden.”
My eyes burn. My thoughts jump to Caleb. Of course they do.
“Is it better to be alone?”
She considers my answer, and in this moment, that’s what I appreciate the most about her. She doesn’t bullshit me—I’m practically an adult. She’s never tried to make me feel younger than I am. Sure, she’s still a parent. But it’s different.
“There are epic love stories that end in tragedy,” she finally says. “And then there are people who just float at the baseline of emotion. No love, no loss. I think it’s better to experience it all. Everything good and bad and terrifyingly ugly in this world. Otherwise, we’ll just walk around numb, and what kind of life is that?”
Love, loss, tragedy.
“And besides, who’s to say every story ends in a ball of flames? Some surpass time.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders.
I surprise myself by leaning into it, resting my head on her shoulder.
“I’m scared.”
“Why do I think you’re not just talking about Robert?” She hums.
“I don’t want to fall in love with Caleb if he’s just going to break my heart,” I whisper. “I don’t want him to… string me along or mess with me.”
She taps my bracelet. “What’s the story with this, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I snort. “When we were eight, I basically talked Caleb into pretend marrying me. It was just braided thread back then, nothing substantial.” I twist it around my wrist. “I lost it at one of the foster homes, but I think Caleb somehow stole it. It was my own fault for not wearing it, but I didn’t want it to break. He fixed it up and gave it back to me at the masquerade ball.”
“Before he told us the lies about our daughter.”
“Yeah.”
“The eight-year-old Margo was ready to commit.” She chuckles. “If only we all had the courage that kids do.”
“Well, that was before I broke his heart, and he broke mine.”
She twists toward me. “If you listen to anything I say, I hope it’s this. Hearts heal. Scars fade. Memories of the past… they don’t last very long either. If you love him, love him with everything you have, and I promise it’ll be worth it.”
I blink back tears. “Is that how you feel about Robert?”
“Absolutely. We may not seem like it at times, though.” She wipes at her own cheeks. “Time has worn us down. But we put work and love into our relationship every day.”
“It’s funny… I never got to have a conversation about relationships or sex or love.” I roll my eyes. “Mom and Dad had a weird, angry relationship. The Ashers weren’t the best role models either. And the foster families…” I laugh under my breath. “None of them really had their shit together. Some pretended, of course, but we saw through it.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” she says. “I need to make a phone call, okay? How about you get us something from the vending machine.”
She hands me a few dollars and shoos me into the hall.
My body is numb. I walk down the hall and around the corner to the little alcove of vending machines. I get each of us a coffee and a granola bar, then trudge back.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, like someone is watching me.
I spin around, but the hallway is practically empty. Just a nurse walking away from me, pushing a cart, and another woman in scrubs at the nurses’ station.
I back away from that spot. I get the same feeling again and turn, coffee sloshing through the little hole in the lid.
“Fuck, ow.” I set down the coffee and shake out my hand, wincing at the red spots that already appear on my skin.
The hallway is empty.
Thoroughly spooked, I grab the cup and rush back to the waiting room.
How was it so busy not too long ago and deserted now?
“Angela told me she got you a new phone?” Lenora asks when I’ve retaken my seat. Angela—better known as Ms. McCaw.
“She gave it to me when she dropped me off. I haven’t looked at it.”
Lenora’s eyebrows lift. “Well, maybe you should set it up and see if someone wants to come by. Riley or Caleb…”
“Is that okay?” I ask. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“It isn’t intrusive for you to have someone to support you,” she says quietly. “God knows the whole family was here when Isabella?—”
I watch her out of the corner of my eye. I don’t want to ask, but at the same time…
“They brought her here?”
“She was cold,” she whispers. “By the time they found her. It was an unusually cold night, so her temperature was too low. I guess you can’t declare someone dead until they’re…”
Warm and dead . I’d heard that on a television show or two.
“Yeah,” I mutter, just so she doesn’t have to say it out loud.
How awful? Knowing they were warming up your frozen daughter just down the hall, and she probably is already dead—but who really knew?
“I’m sorry you’ve had to be back here,” I say.
She waves me off. “It was a long time ago. Robert and I were very different people.”
“Funny, I used to say that about Caleb and me.”
“You should call him.” She presses her lips together. “You’ve been staying with his…”
“Friend’s family,” I supply. “Is he technically a foster, too?”
She shrugs. “Benjamin Asher left behind an odd will, I heard once. It was all Rose Hill could talk about. His disgraced wife and scorned brother.”
My eyes go wide. “What?”
“I’m not too sure about the details—Robert and I were still getting our feet wet in town. My first big job was transitioning the Asher firm over to Prinze Industries, but we were still in the city at that point. After a successful merger, my company paid for our relocation.”
“Oh, wow. So, you knew Caleb’s dad?” And you never mentioned he was dead?
“I only met him twice. Once to discuss his future at Prinze Industries, and the second time when he signed the paperwork.” She shakes her head. “That wasn’t long before…”
“But back to the will…”
“Oh, yes. It was all over town—especially my coworkers, honestly, they’re gossiping fools—that Benjamin had left everything to his son.”
“Are you sure?”
She laughs. “Not in the slightest.”
I mull it over. Taking it with a grain of salt, even if Caleb’s dad had left him most of what he owned, it was still a sizeable chunk. And it would explain his uncle’s fury. And his mother’s… His mother’s what? She’s been missing from the story this entire time.
“I think… I will make that phone call.”
She nods.
I fumble with the phone. My hands are steady now, thanks to the granola bar, and I unlock it with my usual password to find that everything from my previous phone has already been loaded onto this one.
Suspicion gnaws at me, but nothing seems unusual about it.
I dial Riley’s number, not trusting a text message.
“Margo?”
“Yeah, hey.” I clear my throat. “Um, could you come to the hospital? If it’s not too much trouble?”
“Of course,” she says immediately. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Lenora has resumed pacing.
“It’s getting dark out,” she comments. “Nice of them to give us a window.”
I shiver. “I’m glad I’m not learning to drive anytime soon.”
She squints at me. “Huh?”
“Driving in the snow… doesn’t sound like a good time.”
“You don’t—” She smacks her forehead. “We’re idiots!”
“What…”
“Margo, what a complete, total, awful oversight on our part.” She winces. “I’m sorry, I should’ve realized it when your foster sister came by and boasted about her learner’s permit.”
“It’s not a big deal.” My fingers find their way to my wrist, and I have to stop myself from scratching at the scab. “I just, you know, plan on learning eventually. Or at least taking the test and hope I pass.”
She scoffs. “No, absolutely not. As soon as this is all sorted, we’ll put you in driver’s ed. And we’ll practice once you’ve had a few lessons.”
My eyebrows go up. “Just like that?”
“I’ve seen your reckless tendencies. I don’t even want to know what that’d be like with you behind the wheel,” she says, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s teasing.
Lenora.
Teasing.
Who would’ve thought?
I cough over my laugh. “I wouldn’t be that bad.”
“You sure?”
She giggles, and it breaks the dam. I laugh, too. We both howl with laughter, clutching our stomachs. Tears—happy ones, I think—stream down my face. My abs hurt by the time we finally stop.
“Oh God,” I say, the happiness draining away like someone just pulled the plug on it. “We’re laughing while?—”
“Stop right there,” she says, reaching out and taking my hands.
For the first time, probably ever, I hold her hands back.
“We’re allowed to laugh. He’d probably be happy we weren’t crying without cause.”
“But…” He could still die . It’s late, almost six o’clock. Two hours since Ms. McCaw dropped me off.
Hours or minutes . Time swung away from me when I wasn’t paying attention.
I’m still contemplating that when Riley appears, breathless. She looks between Lenora and me. We must be quite the sight—red-faced and winded ourselves—but she doesn’t comment. She squeezes the daylights out of me.
I grasp at her, letting the rib-crunching hug put me back together.