Page 275 of Saving Her

Then I see him—my dad.

He stands on the other side of the open ward doors, his attention focused on something out of view, the glow of the sunrise highlighting his face.

My feet stop of their own accord. I can’t move any farther.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian whispers. “It’s all going to be okay.”

It doesn’t feel that way. My body is in overdrive, my thoughts and fears colliding into a mass of hysteria.

I’m about to turn and hide when my dad looks our way. His face brightens at the sight of his son, then completely falls when he sees me.

He stares in horror. Wide eyes. Gaping mouth.

“What is it?” my mother asks, her arm reaching into view. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s frozen.

Sebastian continues without me, walking to our father’s side while my mother stands.

I want to run.

Tothem.Awayfrom them. But I can’t move.

I blink the blur from my vision as my mom turns to face me, her hand immediately raising to cover her mouth.

All I feel is panic and pain.

All I see is heartache and loss.

“Penny?” My mother glances from me, to my father, to my brother, and back again, her confusion unwavering.

“Pen, is that you?” my dad asks.

I tremble. Arms. Legs. Heart.

The eight feet of distance between us is so close, yet unbelievably far. No matter what I do, I can’t get my feet to move, my voice to speak.

“It’s her.” Sebastian starts toward me. “It’s really her.”

My chest restricts. My heart and lungs are ripped from me.

My mother takes a step, a sob breaching her lips. “Penny…” She runs, the pace hobbled, her face stricken. “My baby girl.”

I break, my tears rushing free, the heated trails searing my cheeks as air heaves from my lungs.

I’m engulfed in restricting arms, my mother’s love circling me even tighter. I close my eyes against the emotional onslaught, sucking in breath after hiccupped breath, not wanting the love to weaken me, and not being able to deny it at the same time.

“I don’t understand.” My dad’s voice approaches. “How did this happen?”

More arms engulf me. The scent of my father’s aftershave sinks deep into my lungs.

There are sobs and laughter and sniffles.

Hugs and questions and comfort. So much soul-shaking comfort.

I let it wash over me. Consume me.

I sway with the waves of emotion, taking in all the sensations of home as I squeeze my eyes tighter in an attempt to stem the unending blubbering.

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