Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
Hannah
Red and blue lights bounce in rhythm with my heartbeat across Jade’s ceiling as I lie next to her in her canopy bed.
I don’t know how I managed to stay in that car with Granny until the police arrived without Jade waking up .
. . or the questioning from the officers that came after while I kept my eye on Jade in the back seat until they allowed me to take her inside.
I stare down at the sweet little girl, and my heart cracks wide open knowing tomorrow, when she wakes up, her entire world is gonna change.
Another tear falls across the bridge of my nose and trickles down into my hair as the mattress dips.
I turn my head, and my stomach twists when the lights from the police cruiser illuminate Sean’s face.
Tears glisten as they stream down his cheeks.
I start to reach up . . . to wipe them away, but before I can, he grabs my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine.
We just sit there in the cold silence of the dark room, grieving our loss until he finally stands and pulls me up with him, leading me into the living room.
“I didn’t want us to wake up Jade,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.
“God, Sean. The dispatcher told me to wait in the car until the police arrived. Said I couldn’t leave the vehicle until the police were done questioning me .
. . something about if I did, they could charge me for tampering with an investigation.
What if . . . what if she would’ve woken up? ” I whisper against his chest.
His body stiffens around me. “Come on. Let’s sit.”
He plops down on the sofa, taking me with him.
“She was telling me goodbye the whole way home, and I didn’t even realize it.” He brushes my hair from my face as I choke on a sob. “Poor Jade . . . she’s gonna be so heartbroken.”
He pulls me closer, kissing my hair as he cradles my head buried in his neck. “Granny was one of a kind. She lived a long fulfilling life, mi amor. A good one. The best thing we can do for Jade is to keep talking about her and make sure she knows how many people’s lives her Granny touched.”
“Hey, Han,” Aiden's voice cracks as he chokes out my name. Pinching the bridge of his nose, his body shudders as a sob rips through his chest. His red-rimmed eyes flick up to meet ours, and he takes a deep breath. “They . . . they need to talk to you.”
The officer, standing behind him, takes a few steps toward us. I know they deal with this kind of thing on a daily basis, but discomfort still glazes his eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss. It’s um . . . protocol to take the vehicle until we complete the rest of our investigation.”
“Fuck you and your fucking protocols.” Sean shifts, trying to lift me from his lap, but I don’t budge. “I’m filing a formal complaint first thing tomorrow morning. I can’t believe you would make her stay in the car with a five-year-old little girl.”
I squeeze Sean's hand, trying to get him to shut up.
“Sir, I’m sorry, but she wasn’t forced to stay in the car.”
“The dispatcher said I had to,” I argue.
“Ma’am, if that’s the case, you were given false information. I’m . . . I’m sorry. They should’ve told you not to leave the scene.”
“No, that’s what she told me. Maybe my brain checked out somewhere and I took it as I couldn’t leave the vehicle.” My face crumples, thinking about how she was just sitting there next to me. “Keys are in the car. I don’t want it back. I’ll never be able to drive it again anyways.”
The officer taps his tablet against his hands and nods.
“Thanks for your cooperation tonight. Again, I’m sorry for your loss,” he says before leaving us three in the living room.
“I don’t want Jade to know that Granny was in the car when she passed,” Aiden says. “As far as she’s concerned, Granny died in her sleep peacefully. She doesn’t need to know any more details.”
“Agreed,” Sean and I both say.
“I’m uh . . .” He trails off, wiping the tears staining his cheeks with his hands. “I’m gonna go cuddle with my baby and try to figure out how the fuck I’m gonna tell her that her Granny is gone in the morning. You guys know where the guest room is if you wanna stay.”
He starts to leave the room but turns back around. “Hannah, thanks for taking care of my little girl.”
“Always,” I say as he walks out of the room.
“Come on, mi amor. Let’s go home.”
The drive to Sean’s house torments me. All the time she and I spent together and every conversation we ever had plays out in my mind.
By the time we finally drag ourselves through the front door, Sean's family is already asleep, and the house is bathed in darkness. Chávez meows at my feet, and as I pick him up, cuddling into his soft fur, I can’t help but continue replaying the last conversation with Granny over and over in my head.
“I’ll take the coaching job,” I tell Aspen, storming into her office.
“Hannah, it’s only been a week, and you’ve been through something very traumatic. I really think you need to take some time off to process and grieve.”
“I don’t need to take time off,” I snap.
What I need to do is keep my word to Granny. When I glance up and see the expression on Aspen’s face, I know she’s not going to budge.
“What are you gonna do while I’m gone? Hmm? Who’s gonna help you?” I ask.
“You can’t help me when your mind is somewhere else. Take the time.”
She doesn’t leave any room for argument.
Huffing an angry breath, I storm out of the facility, then set out on my bike.
The wind whips my hair as I speed up the highway, but the rush doesn’t feel the same.
It’s empty. Unfulfilling. I drive for hours, so numb I can’t even feel the cold October air.
Hitting top speed down the winding road, I try harder to make the adrenaline pump through my veins, but it never fucking does.
I park my bike, hop off, and walk closer to the rock-lined ridge that overlooks the river of Hawks Nest, then perch myself on the wall, dangling my feet on the other side.
Why the hell did I wind up here?
“Remember what I said about coincidences?”
“There are none. Yeah, I remember.”
“That’s right. Everythin’ happens for a reason.”
“You’re an asshole, Granny. A fucking asshole. You wanna talk about coincidences . . . or lack thereof?” I yell, swiping the angry tears from my face. “Why the fuck am I here?”
“Ya know what yer problem is? Ya don’t do shit for yourself.”
“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up. I was gonna do this for myself.”
My mind feels like one big giant clusterfuck as memories flood in one after the other, and each one of them is met with a bitter retort flying from my mouth.
My breaths become ragged. My molars grind together.
Heat claws up my neck and settles over my cheeks, and I finally explode, my voice echoing over the Valley as I scream at the top of my lungs.
“What the fuck do you want from me?!”
No answer comes. Of course it doesn’t.
“God. I’m turning into a literal fucking crazy person.”
Through blurred vision, I watch the way the river flows and think about how rivers carve new paths after a flood.
This isn’t the direction I want my life to go.
I’m falling right back into the spiral I just climbed out of, and I’ve worked too damn hard and come too damn far to regress back into that version of myself.
The fight Sean and I had not too long ago flashes through my mind.
“Where’s my Hannah?”
“She’s fucking dead!”
“Well, bring her the fuck back!”
Yeah, I’m not doing this again.
Swinging my legs back over the side of the ledge, I stand and hop on my bike. The engine vibrates between my thighs as I rev it up and set out toward the city. There’s only one person who can help me before I spiral too far.
* * *
Carter’s elbows rest on his desk; his fingers steepled in front of him. “Have you ever heard of the five stages of grief?”
“I’ve heard of them, but I don’t know what all of them are,” I say, shaking my head.
“Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and last . . . acceptance. Sound familiar?” Before I can answer, he continues.
“The stages of grief don’t just apply to people grieving the death of a loved one, Han.
In your case, it was a breakup and a life-changing diagnosis at the same time.
And just as you were arriving at the stage of acceptance, Granny died, and so now the cycle starts all over again. ”
“River’s right. You psychoanalyze the shit out of people.”
“Not intentionally, unless asked . . . and never her. But yeah, it’s kind of my job.” He laughs, jotting something down on his notepad.
“So, what do I do, Carter? I don’t want to be that version of myself ever again.”
“You won’t.” The office chair creaks as he sets down his pen and leans back.
“How do you know?” I ask, not quite believing him.
“I know because the version of yourself that was struggling before never asked for help, and now, you’re sitting here in front of me freaking out because you’re scared you’re falling back into a pattern.”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“Inside you are.” He raises a brow, and my eyes dart down in embarrassment.
“You won’t always feel like this, okay? You just lost your friend. You’re angry because she’s gone. You’re sad because you loved her. What you’re feeling right now is completely normal.”
“Well, even so, there’s still shit I need to work on.”
“There’s shit we could all stand to work on. I’m here to help you, Hannah, and I’m not dismissing anything you’re telling me, but just for the record, I think you’re doing a lot better than you think.”
Maybe he’s right, maybe I am. I don’t know.
“Let yourself grieve. Don’t try to numb it with stupid shit like . . . oh, I don’t know . . . jumping off a cliff after watching a YouTube video.”
My eyes take a turn around my head. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
“No. Probably not.” He winks.
I stand to leave, and his voice stops me as I pick up my backpack.
“You already did the hard part . . . recognizing the problem. If there’s something you wanna work on, work on it. But first, give yourself another week or two to grieve your loss. Let me know when you're ready to talk some things through.”
“Thanks.” I nod, then head out the door, feeling a little more optimistic than I did when I came in.