Page 92 of Collateral Damage
Whelp, I won’t be hearing from him for hours.
Sybil: Call me before you leave?
He adds a thumbs up to the text, and I wait for the elevator to take me downstairs. I need to get to the office.
My new assistant, Jarod, started yesterday. I’m having him take care of menial admin tasks, but I should check in and see how well he’s fairing. Plus, I need to take care of some phone calls with a few vendors.
My phone buzzes, and I almost expect it to be a text from Cooper or Perry, or maybe even another one from Benton, but it’s from Mom.
Mom: Call me as soon as you get this. It’s important.
My stomach flips, and I immediately press the call button.
“Sybil,” Mom answers, her voice strained and far away. I can hear the faint crashing of waves in the background of our Nantucket beachfront home.
“Hey, Mom. What’s going on?”
The pause is long, the kind of long that makes my heart hammer uncontrollably.
The elevator arrives, but I ignore it. It opens and shuts without me.
When Mom speaks again, her voice is husky with grief. “Are you sitting down? Are you alone?”
“I’m on set right now.”
“Okay, honey, find somewhere private.”
“One second.” My legs move before my mind can even think.
Returning to crew basecamp, I head to the spare bedroom that’s been set aside for makeup and hair, but people are in there. The second spare bedroom is the screening room, so it’s guaranteed to be busy. Without hesitation, I stride across the living room for Cooper’s bedroom door.
He normally keeps it locked, but thankfully it opens. I stumble inside and close myself in. My legs shake, and I have to lean against the door. Maybe this is PTSD kicking in or something else, but my body feels like it has a mind of its own.
“Okay, you can tell me now. What’s wrong?”
“It’s about Dad.” Mom chokes on a sob, and a million emotions burst to the surface, including delusions that he somehow survived the boating accident. It’s my secret hope that I know will never come true.
“Honey, they found some of his remains. His skull washed up near Great Point Beach. The authorities ran forensics and were able to match Dad’s dental records. It’s him.”
My legs give out as I sink to the ground.
We found him.
We can finally lay him to rest—or at least, part of him. This is that final confirmation he’s really gone, and my heart cracks all over again. My body battles between relief and heartbreak, neither winning nor surrendering to the other.
I know I wasn’t the only one. Chandler has said multiple times he thought Dad had amnesia and would return to us. Mom sometimes tells me how she can’t believe he’s gone. And Hayes hasn’t been the same since it happened.
None of us have.
“How are the boys taking it?” I ask. “Have you told them already?”
“I wanted to have you come out so we could tell them together, but they saw me crying and got it out of me. They’re… not well.”
“I’m supposed to fly out next week,” I say. “I’ll come early.”
“That’s up to you. Nobody will judge you either way. You have a lot on your plate.”
“I need a break. I have an assistant now. It will be okay. I’ll come out tomorrow, okay Mom? First thing.”
