Page 69 of The Past

I couldn’t find one.

“No, no, no.”

I tilted his head back, checking his airway.Nothing blocking it.I pressed my ear to his mouth—no breath.

Shit.

I moved fast, clasping my hands and pressing down hard on his chest.

“One, two, three…” I started compressions, counting under my breath.I looked up, saw a few grooms at one of the barns about fifty yards away.

“Help!Someone call an ambulance!”I shouted.

They stopped, stared at me in disbelief for only a second as they took in the scene and then they bolted—hopefully for the nearest phone.I didn’t know how these things worked in Ireland, but I assumed they had basic emergency medical services.

One of the stable hands appeared.“What can I do?”

“Go get Kathleen,” I ordered as I continued compressions.He took off toward the cottage, shouting at the top of his lungs.

I didn’t stop.Couldn’t stop.

I alternated pumping his chest with blowing into his mouth, trying to force life back into him.“C’mon, Rory.C’mon, don’t do this.”

Footsteps crunched over gravel and I barely registered Kathleen’s cry before she dropped to her knees beside me.“Rory!”

Fiona was right behind her, breathless, eyes wide with terror.“What—”

And then she saw him.

Her knees buckled, and she caught herself against the dirt, her hands shaking as she reached for him.“Uncle Rory,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

I didn’t stop.Kept pushing.Kept counting.

But I knew.

I fucking knew.

He was gone.

I kept going anyway, my arms burning, my breath ragged.

Kathleen was sobbing, pressing kisses to Rory’s forehead, whispering desperate prayers.Fiona clutched his hand, her head shaking as if she could will him back to life.

The ambulance finally arrived.

The medics rushed in, pulling me away as they took over.

Fiona released a broken cry as they tried to revive him, but I could see it in their faces.

They knew too.

They loaded him onto the stretcher, Kathleen sobbing into Fiona’s shoulder.

I didn’t hesitate.“I’m drivin’,” I told them.“Let’s go.”

No one argued.

I drove like a madman to the hospital, Kathleen and Fiona crying in the back seat, the wheels spitting gravel as I tore out of Glenhaven.

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