Page 127 of Cloudless
I smile, thinking back to my mom’s gardening basket she had in Chicago. “My mom once left an entire basket of tools outside while we were gone on vacation. It only took a week for her shovel to get rusted like this.” I shake my head as my smile grows. “She was so disappointed. They were a birthday gift from my dad.”
Ellie’s face blurs as tears rim my eyes. Her gentle fingers squeeze my hand as I smile. “Hey, it’s all going to be okay. You’re not alone in this, L. We’re going to fight like hell to keep those kids.”
I use the back of my hand to wipe the tear that escapes since I don’t want the mystery crusty stuff from the blanket anywhere near my face. “I hope you’re right, E.”
Her smile comes into view as my tears dry up. “I usually am.”
Her smile falls as a shrill cry comes from the backyard. A bolt of dread zings down my spine as the cry truly registers.
I know that cry. I heard it every night for weeks when she would wake from her nightmares to burrow into my side. I heard it when she fell and busted her lip on her first day of preschool.
Posey.
CHAPTER 62
TIME TRAVEL
LILA
Hospitals have a certain smell. I’m not sure if it's the sharp smell of antiseptic or the lingering smell of old coffee that causes such a recognizable scent. Maybe it’s the ever-present burn in your nose like you’ve just inhaled chlorine that makes the scent so easily distinguished.
Or maybe it’s not a smell, but just a feeling. A feeling of all-consuming dread that seems to overtake anyone who walks through the sliding glass doors. For some, it’s a feeling of déjà vu, like they’re stepping back in time to revisit the worst day of their lives.
I used to not believe in time travel. There’s no way that we mere humans could master such a complex theory. There’s no way we could harness enough power and understanding to control something as intricate as time.
But as I walked through those sliding glass doors a few hours ago, I became a believer.
Time travel doesn’t exist the way it does in movies and books, though.
It’s not a futuristic car you can get in, push a few buttons, and speed off into a new era.
It’s not a genetic disorder that causes you to spontaneously fade away into a different time.
It’s not a blue police box that uses alien technology to travel anywhere in time and space.
No. It’s the sound of a doorway made up of simple glass that squeaks as it opens.
It’s the sharp smell of antiseptic and stale, cheap coffee.
It’s a feeling that nothing will ever be okay again.
Because in reality, I’m sitting in a broken-down chair while I wait for a doctor to come and X-ray my sister's arm. My butt is numb, my stomach is growling, and I am exhausted. But, this isn’t the worst day of my life.
My mind doesn’t care about reality, though. No. My mind is stuck reliving that worst day over and over again.
My ears don’t care that Posey is laughing at something Kam just said or that she doesn’t need a heart monitor like the old lady in the next room. All my ears can hear are the mumbled words of the nurse, who couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes as she said,“I’m sorry, Miss Sullivan. There was nothing else we could do.”
My eyes don’t care that Posey is smiling as she fidgets on the bed with the scratchy sheets. All my eyes can see are the bloodstains on the doctor’s scrubs as he told me I was an orphan.
As he told me I’malone.
“You alright, Sunshine?” Kam’s worried eyes cause a pit to open up in my stomach that threatens to swallow me whole.
The metal rings squeak against the curtain rod as the nurse pokes his head around the fabric divider. His sunken eyes and dark circles don’t keep the smile from his face as he says, “Are you ready for that X-ray, Miss Posey?”
Posey's eyes gleam with anticipation as the nurse maneuvers the wheelchair into the room. “Do I get to ride in that?”
The nurse’s smile never strays from his face as he pulls the lever to engage the brake on the chair. “You sure do! You get to take a ride to radiology, where we’re going to take pictures of the inside of your arm.”
