CHAPTER thirty-nine
Every Light Extinguished
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
I find Elias on the floor. A syringe is still embedded in the crook of his arm, a thin trail of blood snakes down to the rug, where it blooms into a dark stain.
His whole body is trembling—small, violent shudders that are the only proof he’s still alive. My stomach drops. The world narrows to the shape of him crumpled on the cold floor.
I drop to my knees so hard I’m sure they will bruise, reaching for him, trying to lift his head into my lap. I feel a warm wetness coat my hands.
“Oh my God… baby, what did you do?” The words tear out of me, raw and shaking. My hands, now streaked with the blood coming from the back of his head, hover uselessly above him, terrified to touch, terrified not to.
His fingers latch onto my arms with what little strength he has left. His grip is desperate, almost frantic, and his eyes—those amber eyes—are blown wide and wild, unfocused but searching for me like I’m the only thing tethering him to this world.
“I…” he tries, voice barely a breath. “I… Tr—”
“What is it? Elias, what is it?” I plead, leaning closer, trying to will the rest of the sentence out of him. “Baby, talk to me.”
But before he can force the word out, his gaze goes glassy. His eyes roll back.
And then—his body goes suddenly, terrifyingly still.
His chest doesn’t rise.
Doesn’t fall.
Doesn’t move at all.
“Elias?” My voice breaks.
“Elias!” I shake him once, twice, panic clawing up my throat.
“No, no, no—baby, come back. Please—please, stay with me.”
I press my forehead to his, helpless and trembling as the fear hits me like a tidal wave.
“Elias! Please!” My scream echoes through the empty bus, but he doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t breathe.
His eyes are now glazed, distant. Empty.
For a moment, I’m rooted to the floor, unable to breathe, my mind pulled violently backward: back to my parents’ house, back to the hallway outside Gracelyn’s room.
The door creaking open. The unnatural stillness.
That same lifeless expression. Elias’s eyes mirror it now: glassy, vacant, as if someone has stomped out every last ember.
My stomach flips. The air grows thick. My head spins and my vision blurs, like the present and past are folding in on each other, crushing me between them.
A raw, guttural sound tears from my throat before I even register it as my own. It’s the kind of scream that doesn’t feel human, like something primal trying to claw its way out of me.
I am beside him, hands trembling as I press my hand to his chest.
Nothing. No rise. No fall.
“Elias!” I sob, grabbing his face in my hands. His skin is still warm. But he’s not breathing.
“Please!” I scream into the emptiness. “Somebody help!”
I press my ear against his chest, straining to hear something—anything—and there, barely audible, is the faintest thud. A flicker of hope.
My fingers scramble for my phone, slipping against the screen as I punch in the numbers. The world blurs around me, but I force myself to focus.
“Come on,” I whisper to him as I put the phone to my ear. “Don’t do this to me… not again.”
The line rings, the trilling sound keeping me tethered to reality.
“Please don’t leave me,” I say shakily.
I try to keep my hands steady, counting out chest compressions as the voice on the phone walks me through CPR.
I feel like I’ve left my body, like I’m watching myself, just going through the motions.
My vision is hazy from tears, my mouth dry from screaming, but I can still feel the faint rhythm beneath my palms—his heart, struggling, refusing to give up.
But he’s still not breathing. His lips are turning a terrifying shade of blue.
“Come on, baby. Stay with me.”
The scream of approaching sirens breaks through the chaos. A small relief surges through me when I see the flashing lights outside the venue, red and white reflections dancing across the floor.
The paramedics rush in without hesitation.
One of them—a woman with a focused expression and gloved hands—kneels beside me and takes over.
I stumble back, hands shaking, chest heaving.
They tell me to leave so they can work, and when I stumble off the bus, a crowd has formed.
Realization rippling through the space like a crack in glass.
I look up just in time to see Cody pushing through, eyes wild, face pale. His gaze goes directly to my blood stained hands, but when our eyes meet a second later, something in him breaks. He sees the panic carved across my features, the way I can’t stop shaking.
I crumple to my knees, feeling them scrape on the pavement. In a heartbeat, Cody is there, followed by Grady and Jasper.
“Don’t say it, Ramona…” Cody whispers, blue eyes clouded and shimmering. “Please, don’t say it.”
I can’t say anything. The words lodge in my throat, heavy as stone.
I just look at him, and he knows. His face contorts as the truth settles in, and he steps back, hands on his head like he’s surrendering to this reality.
Then his knees give out and he collapses to the ground, sobs wracking his body—loud and inhuman.
Grady and Jasper fall to either side of him, wrapping their arms around his shaking frame. The three of them break together.
Sasha finds me, her arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders as I collapse into her. She holds my head against her, but I can barely breathe. My chest burns like I’ve been set on fire from the inside out.
The paramedics carry Elias out on a stretcher, one of them squeezing the breathing pump over his mouth. His body is limp, his chest rising only with help.
They’re almost at the door before I tear away from Sasha and stumble toward them.
“Wait! Please—” I grab the edge of the stretcher, sobbing. “Is he alive?”
The female EMT turns to me, her expression tight but not unkind. “He is, but he’s critical. We have to move now. You can meet us at the hospital.”
The doors shut before I can say another word, and the ambulance speeds away, sirens screaming into the night. I stand there frozen, broken as the van speeds away. Sasha breaks my trance, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards her car.
She had driven to the venue, thank god. We all pile in. Grady and Jasper help Cody who can barely get to his feet. Sasha floors it, chasing the ambulance through the winding city streets. No one speaks. The silence is thick with prayers we’re too afraid to say out loud.