“Uh, I don’t have my old cell phone.” I reach into my backpack and pull out Joey’s phone still wrapped in aluminum foil. Nick eyes it curiously. I peel off the foil and turn it on, hoping I won’t regret it later. I pull up the Contacts and hand it to him, so he can type in his info. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“Or if the doctor shows up,” he adds. I nod. He looks at her one more time, like it hurts him to leave her side. “I’ll be right back.”
When he walks out, the machine’s rhythmic beeping seems to get louder. It’s the only noise other than the occasional dinging in the hallway.
I don’t realize my hand’s shaking until I extend it, gingerly wrapping my fingers around my mother’s. “You have to be alright,” I tell her, like there isn’t another choice. Because there isn’t.
She has to recover from this. If she doesn’t, I never will.
“Good morning. I’m Dr. Nolan.”
I jolt awake, not remembering when I dozed off. My hand is still attached to Mom’s, so it couldn’t have been that long ago. An older man with white hair swept back stands at the end of the bed, a clipboard in his hand.
Nick rises to his feet to greet the doctor. They discuss tests and scans like I’m not even there. I half-listen but can’t keep track of what they’re saying. From the little I do capture, they won’t know anything until after the tests. So I suppose it doesn’t matter what I understand anyway.
I hear him ask about medications.
“She just started a new one,” I interject. They both abruptly turn toward me. “I don’t know the name of it, but I’m sure it’s at the house.”
“I didn’t notice any recent medication changes noted in her digital chart, so it’s important we get the name of it,” the doctor says.
“Yeah, I can pick it up,” I tell him.
“Maybe Olivia and Niall can get it on their way in,” Nick suggests.
“Get what?” is asked from the doorway. Olivia steps into the room, her eyes slightly puffy with fatigue but not nearly as devastated as Nick. Her hair is pulled back in a low bun, and her face is free of makeup. But she still glows with a radiance that emits ease and confidence.
Within seconds of her arrival, I’m convinced everything will be okay. She’ll make certain of it.
“I can go,” I tell them. “Sounds like it’ll be a while before we know anything anyway, right?”
“That’s correct,” Dr. Nolan confirms.
Before anyone can argue, I stand and lift my backpack by the strap. “I won’t be long.”
When I walk out of the room, I’m disoriented for a minute, not sure which direction to go until I locate a sign for the elevators.
The lobby is bustling when I enter, in complete contrast to when Parker escorted me to the information desk hours ago. He wasn’t allowed up with me, so he told me to call him if I needed anything, except he neglected to leave me his number. And I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to ask, so I could program it into Joey’s phone. I pause when I step through the main entrance onto the sidewalk, searching through my pockets for bus fare but coming up empty.
I reach into the side pocket where I stuffed the phone and send the only text I can. Are you in Oaklawn?
Joey responds within a few seconds, Yes. Been thinking about you. How’s your mom?
Don’t know anything yet. Can you drive me to my house right now? I need to get something for the doctor.
Sure. Be there in twenty.
It suddenly occurs to me where I am. Can you come in first? Meet in the lobby.
The three dots blink on my screen for a moment, like he’s not sure how to respond. Sure.
Twenty-two minutes later, Joey steps through the revolving door. I stand from the bench, where I’ve been staring at the clock, waiting. He opens his arms, and I step into them without hesitating. I take a deep breath as he holds me, emotions rising to the surface. I step away to keep from completely losing it.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Always,” he answers, offering a consoling smile. “You want to see Allie, don’t you?”
I nod.
“Not sure if the nurses will stop us, but I may be able to talk our way in.”
“But you’ve seen her, right?”
“I met her parents in the cafeteria. Told them I was a friend from school, so they allow me to visit whenever I can. I’ll tell them you’re a friend too but that you’ve been away or something.” He inspects my face. “That okay? I know you don’t like lying …”
“I can’t lie. There’s a difference. But if you tell them, I’m okay with it. I just really need to see her.”
“I know.” He inspects me carefully. “But it’s not going to be easy. Are you sure you’re up for it after—”
“Please, Joey,” I interrupt, my voice wavering. “It’s important.”
He nods solemnly and walks toward the visitors’ desk.
The nurses smile warmly and wave to Joey as we walk down a hall decorated with colorful flowers, butterflies and ladybugs. They don’t ask who I am. With each step, my nervousness spreads until my veins course with it and my stomach churns with nausea. I take Joey’s hand to keep mine from shaking. We pause when we reach her room, a pink-and-yellow butterfly on the window.
“Ready?” Joey asks, his vibrant blue eyes assessing me.
I nod, squaring my shoulders as if adorned with armor. It was my choice to be here. I need to face what I’ve done.
A tall blonde wrapped in an oversize cardigan almost walks into us on her way out.
“Joey,” she greets him with a surprised smile. “I didn’t know you were coming by today.” Then she notices me, and her smile widens. “And who’s this?”
“Lana, this is Mrs. Pixley,” Joey says.
I force a smile while my heart races in my chest. Allie’s mother has kind eyes, like her daughter, and a weary but friendly smile.
“Lana knows Allie too, but she’s been away. She wanted to come by and visit when she heard what happened. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Pixley says, her face lighting up. “The more people to talk to her, the better. We never know what’s going to spark her back to us.” She shares her daughter’s optimistic spirit, and it brings tears to my eyes.
“Thank you. It means a lot to be able to see her.” I offer a genuine smile, hoping to mask the emotion clouding my vision. If I can do anything to bring Allie back, I need to try.
“Of course.” Mrs. Pixley steps out of the way, so we can enter the room. “I was just going downstairs for coffee, so I’ll let you two spend some time with her. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you,” we say, our replies overlapping.
I enter the room, holding my breath as Joey shuts the door behind us. No longer able to hold back the tears, they flow freely down my cheeks. Seeing Allie in person is more heartbreaking than I was prepared for, even after seeing her on Brendan’s computer screen.
Allie looks small in the bed despite her height. She was already thin and willowy, but being in a coma has stolen weight from her bones, sharpened her cheeks and made the hollows of her eyes look too big for her face. A ventilating tube is attached to her throat. The familiar beeping is accompanied by the hiss of the oxygen being supplied to her.
I don’t realize Joey is holding me up until I attempt to move toward her, and my knees buckle. His arm tightens around my waist.
“Why don’t you sit?” He guides me to the chair stationed by her bed. He removes the book from the seat and lowers me onto it. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You’ve had a rough day already.”
His caring is warranted because I’m not alright. I am filled with guilt and blame, ire and sadness. But my discomfort means nothing, not while she’s in this bed, fighting for her life.
“I want to be here,” I repeat insistently without taking my eyes off Allie, swiping at the tears rolling down my cheeks. What can I possibly say to the girl who tried to save me? “I want to
make this better.”
I press my head against the bed rail and silently sob, my knuckles gripping the plastic ’til they turn white. Images from that night invade my thoughts. The malice in Vic’s eyes the moment before he shoved her down the stairs. The smirk that painted his face. Allie’s fierce cries when she tried to fend him off. The fear darkening her face as she tipped back into the void.
I can’t believe he’s partying in Europe while she can’t even breathe on her own. It’s not right that he’s allowed to return to his life, flaunting his freedom, while we suffer.
I grind out through clenched teeth, “I swear to you, he’ll get what he deserves.”
The monitor beeps frantically.
I lean back in the chair. “Allie?” An alarm sounds loudly, mimicked by a chiming in the hall. I search for Joey. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he responds, his brow creased with worry.
A heavyset nurse in pink scrubs pushes through the door. She moves to Allie on the other side of the bed without giving us a glance. I stand, not sure what to do, but wanting to get out of the way. Another nurse follows.
The first nurse tells the second, “Page Dr. Gregor.” She has a stethoscope pressed to Allie’s chest.
I step back, panic swelling. I’m back in the stairwell with the security guards swarming, ushering everyone out. I can only silently plead for them to help her, now the same as then.
“You two need to leave the room,” another voice demands, a team of people now invading the space.
I stare at Allie’s pale, expressionless face as Joey takes my trembling hand and gently pulls me into the hall. He wraps an arm around me.
“She’ll be okay,” he murmurs into my hair. His voice shakes despite his assurance. “She’ll be okay.”
“What happened?” Mrs. Pixley asks, rushing to us, oblivious to the coffee sloshing from her paper cup.
“I don’t know,” Joey offers weakly. “An alarm went off. A bunch of people are in there now.”
All the color drains from Mrs. Pixley’s face. Joey takes her cup and sets it on the nurses’ station counter as she fumbles for her phone and dials.
“Get here. Right now.” She returns it to her pocket and runs a hand through her hair, sending her neat bob into disarray. “They didn’t say anything?”
Joey shakes his head.
She paces in front of the window to Allie’s room. The curtains are drawn so we can’t see in. She pauses. “You don’t need to stay. It’s probably best if you don’t.”
“Are you sure?” Joey asks, squeezing me tightly.
“Mark should be here in a minute. You shouldn’t be here … if …” She doesn’t need to finish the sentence for its meaning to be clear.
“I’m so sorry,” I try to say, but the words remain tangled in the back of my throat.
I lean on Joey as he leads us to the elevator. When we’re inside, my strength returns, and I move away to stand on my own. The fear morphs into the fury that’s always at the ready to take over. I pace the confined space.
“Where is he?” I demand. “Where the fuck is Vic?” I scream, slamming my hand against the wall. The impact makes a loud, hollow reverberation.
Joey flinches. “I don’t know,” he answers quietly. “I haven’t heard from him since Berlin.”
We’re silent until we’re inside Joey’s Jeep parked in a lot down the street from the hospital.
“What’s Brendan’s number?” I pull out the phone Brendan programmed—without his number in the Contacts.
“Brendan? I don’t have it.”
“Then what’s Parker’s?” I demand impatiently.
“What are you—” He stops himself and rattles it off as I press the numbers.
Parker picks up after a couple of rings. “Hello?”
“I don’t know why the fuck you haven’t turned in the video yet, but it’s time. Or else I’m going to the police and telling them everything I know.” I should’ve reported the truth from the very beginning even if they didn’t believe me. And that’s on me. Not sure how I’ll live with that if Allie doesn’t.
Parker’s silent.
I tilt the phone in my hand to make sure we’re still connected. “You heard me, right?”
“Yes, Lana, I heard you,” Parker says, his voice flat. “How do you know about the video?”
“It doesn’t matter how I know. The fact that you’re sitting on it makes me sick. All to protect your fucking club.”
“It’s not about the club.”
“Then what?!” I yell. “Allie may be dying right now. And you’re holding the one piece of evidence that could give her family answers and set things right. Who the fuck are you protecting?! Please don’t tell me Vic, or I’ll—”
“Brendan.” That one word silences me. I wait for him to explain, but he doesn’t. “I can’t talk about it over the phone. Can we meet up? Are you still at the hospital? I can be there—”
“I’m with Joey. We just left. I’m on my way to my house. Meet us there. I’ll text you the address.”
“I know where you live. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I slam my hand on the dashboard and scream in frustration.
“What just happened?” Joey asks when I drop my head back against the seat.
“Parker’s meeting us at my house.”
“He has a video of what happened?”
I nod, squeezing my fists tight.
“Are you kidding me?” Anger strangles his words. I look over at him, never having seen him this irate before. He’s usually keeping me from losing it. “We have to get it.”
“We will,” I tell him, fury snaking through my body, tightening my muscles.
No matter what happens to me or anyone else involved, I won’t allow Allie and her family to continue to suffer. Vic will pay for this. I’ll make sure of it.
Because if your words were true, then I broke my own heart. And shattered yours.
It hasn’t even been two months since I last rode down this street, the street I spent my entire life on. But it’s already foreign, like I’m returning to a different world after being away for years. The usual chaos that passed by me like white noise now rakes against my nerves, like it’s blaring through loudspeakers. The people walking along the sidewalks or hanging out on their dilapidated porches appear even more weary and defeated. Everything is broken and cracked, as it always has been. But now, I notice.
I hated being sent off to Blackwood, more because it was forced upon me than for any other reason. But now, I wish to be back there, surrounded by the trees. I appreciate it more than I ever thought I could. It’s the opportunity to escape all of this—a cyclical life without possibilities. I never wanted to be another of its tragic endings, but I also had no idea how to escape it.
Now … I have a chance for more—whatever that ends up being. I do know I won’t find it here.
“Have you eaten?” Joey asks when the Jeep bounces along the pocked dirt driveway.
“No,” I say, recognizing for the first time that I’m hungry.
“I can pick up some breakfast sandwiches while you get what you need. I should be back before Parker arrives. Don’t talk to him without me though. I want to hear what he has to say for himself.”
“Sure. Do you know where to go?” I ask, a little concerned that he’ll end up in a worse neighborhood.
“Yeah. Lincoln used to take me to this place not far from here,” he says as I unbuckle my seat belt. “I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” I climb out of the Jeep.
Joey pulls out as I pause on the front steps. My attention is drawn to the darkened windows of the first floor. No one’s moved in since Morgan’s mother moved out, right after he was killed. I didn’t know that at the time though. The Wolfe family owns the house. According to my mother, there’s always been some family member living downstairs since she moved in as a girl. I’ve never wondered why it’s remained vacant—until now.
When I reach my do
or at the top of the stairs, I press my forehead against the splintered crack running down its center. I didn’t think this through, apparently. First, I left the hospital room without a ride or bus fare. Now, I don’t have the key to get inside. But I do have … I pull out my Blackwood student ID. Angling it, I carefully ease it into the space between the frame and the dead bolt, twisting the doorknob open when I feel it give. Some skills are hard to forget.
The apartment is the same. A blanket is bundled up at the end of the couch, and several pairs of shoes create a trail from the front door to my mother’s bedroom. I follow the shoes to her room and am struck by the floral, fragrant incense infused with the air. I think the room will forever smell like this.
I search the nightstand for the medicine, but it’s not there. I find an empty bottle in the drawer from an old prescription but not the new one. I scan the room, trying to think where it could be, wondering if maybe she had it with her last night. Something I didn’t take into consideration, like everything else, when I left the hospital.
I text Nick, asking if he could check her things because I haven’t come across it yet.
Before he responds, I notice the wooden box that she always keeps locked under her bed. It’s open with its contents strewn across the dresser. I’ve never seen the box open before, although I tried prying the lock many times when I was younger. Whoever made it knew what they were doing. The key is an old skeleton key that my mother wears on the long gold chain around her neck and never takes off unless she’s sleeping or in the shower. Even then, she hides it. So to see its secrets haphazardly on display is more alarming than if the front door had been busted open.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise, like the air behind me moved.
I whirl around. But no one’s there.
I hesitate before approaching the box, feeling guilty for just thinking about looking in it. These are her secrets. I’d be violating her trust by setting eyes upon its contents.
I guess it’s a good thing I’m not Joey or Grant. Thinking that makes me feel even more guilty because now I can sense their judgment. With a resigned sigh, I decide I won’t look. I’ll just pick everything up and put it back in the box. Because I doubt Mom would want anyone accidentally discovering what was meant to be locked away.
The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew Page 17