Chapter Sixty-One
Gil. Earlier.
Ifeel like Lot’s wife. I can’t seem to move a muscle. It’s as though I’ve turned to salt. Even my eyes won’t cooperate. I’m staring, unblinking, at the figure in front of me. I must have been holding my breath because I let out a long, slow sigh.
There’s no way this person standing on my doorstep is real. It has to be an apparition, a figment of my overstressed mind.
The sound of running footsteps behind me breaks the spell. Reality crashes back as Joel races past me and straight into the arms of the figure standing at my front door.
She scoops him up and holds him so tightly that I’m afraid she might hurt him.
Then she speaks, and I know this isn’t a dream. I don’t understand it, but I know it’s real.
And then everything goes black.
***
I don’t know how long has passed when my eyes snap open, and a familiar face stares down at me. I scream.
‘Shush, Gil. Joel will hear you.’
I sit up, and my head spins.
‘Here.’ She hands me a glass of water.
I sip slowly, trying to take it all in.
‘I don’t understand what’s happening,’ I croak.
‘Let me check on Joel. I’ll be right back.’
I watch her walk into my bedroom. It’s her. It’s Jo. But that’s impossible, I saw her body. Bloodied. Lifeless.
She returns, and I stare. Then it hits me.
‘You were at the memorial service,’ I say.
She nods. ‘That was a farce, wasn’t it?’ she says, smiling.
‘I don’t understand. Is this about Lila?’
She shakes her head. ‘It’s unbelievable, Gil,’ she says, tears spilling down her cheeks.
‘Jo…’ I lean forward to hug her. ‘You don’t know what this means, seeing you alive. I don’t understand any of it, but I’m so happy.’
‘Let me tell you what happened,’ she says.