Page 25 of Sol
Dead.
I burst into tears. Heaving, sobbing, ugly, wailing, banshee tears. Tears that they could hear next door. Tears that sounded like something was rent from theUniverse.
Something was rent. Myheart.
My tears were the only language I could use to express mysorrow.
My mother had died. My father had died. And now my brother, my only living family member, haddied.
I had no one. I’d lost everything. Everyone that mattered to me. Allgone.
Without saying a word, Trent stood, picked me up like I was a child, and sat down with me in his lap on the couch, holding me in his broad arms. And Icried.
I missed him. Imissedmy baby brother. I missed his jokes and his gentlesnark.
“Hepromisedme he’d come back,” Iwhispered.
“That isn’t a promise anyone can keep,” Trent mutteredback.
My tears soaked through Trent’s white T-shirt. He didn’t seem to care. He just held me while I lay limply in his arms as waves of sorrow crashed overme.
Eventually I fell asleep on thecouch.
Until I was awakened by a knock on thedoor.
Trent got up and opened the door. I saw through my crying-jag haze that Louise stood at the door, but I was too spent to get up. My hair covered my eyes, and it took too much effort to moveit.
Her familiar, cozy voice suffused the room. “Is Danihere?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight on one leg so his ass leaned to the side. “Yeah.”
“You’reTrent?”
“Yes.”
Who else would it be? Tall, good-looking god taking over myapartment.
“I’ve heard of you,” she said, her eyes going up and down him, clearly conveying her thoughts—he’s a tall drink of yummy, ain’t he? Resting her gaze on his face, she seemed to size himup.
Hepassed.
She stuck out her hand to shake his. “I’m Louise. Known her since college. I’m a teacher at the college, too.” Tilting her head to the side, she asked, “Should I come back? I don’t want to interruptanything.”
“You’re not,” he said. “She’s not doingwell.”
“Why? Is she sick?” Louise peered around him at me, her initial tentativeness at interrupting something turning to concern. “You okay,sugar?”
“She’s not,” he said. “She may need you. Listen.” And he whisperedsomething.
I heard Lulu’s sharp intake of breath. “Oh, that poor child.” She ran in and gathered me in her arms, holding me tight. I let out a fresh batch of tears, sobbing yetagain.
“I had to tell her myself,” Trent murmured. “I couldn’t leave it to someoneelse.”
“I understand,” she said, patting myhair.
She sat with me for a while, until I calmed down. Then she turned to Trent. “How can Ihelp?”
“I’ve got it from here, but she’s gonna need a lot ofsupport.”
