“Okay, I get it. Now can I see her?”
Sutton nods his head.
Nothing can hold back my tears. I hurt all over. I have no idea how I move my legs, but eventually I get to her and she smiles.
“Don’t be sad,” she says softly. “My mommy wants me to go home, and she said they’re going to let her. I’m going to get out of here. Can you believe it? I won’t die a sinner in the Hole. I never thought this was possible.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. Do you want me to pack your things for you?” I choke out.
“Oh, that would be great because we have to leave soon.”
My body wants to convulse and my eyes want to pour the agony forth, but I do everything to hold it back. A single tear escapes and she feels it trail down her arm. She looks up at me, her glassy eyes opening wide.
“Please, come with me. I don’t want to leave you.” She gasps for air.
“I wish I could, so much, but now’s not the time for me. There’s some things I need to take care of first.”
“When you’re done, will you come?”
“Of course.” I get under her covers and hold her in my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder.
“I’m so tired.”
“I know,” I say.
“Lexi.”
“Yes.”
“You’re my best friend. I love you.”
Like a waterfall, my tears spill over, drowning me. “And you’re mine.” I sob now. “I love you too, so much.”
“Thank you for saving me.” I feel her tears falling on my arm.
“Thank you for saving me,” I say back to her because she did. Somehow, this girl found a way into my heart, and taught me how to live, how to care, and most importantly, how to love someone.
“My mom’s here now. Should I go with her?”
Every part of me wants to tell her no because I’m not ready—stay a little longer, tell your mom to come back tomorrow. But I know that’s me being selfish, because I’m not ready to say good-bye and lose her forever. I want to hold her tight and keep her from leaving, although I know that won’t keep her with me. I kiss her on the head.
“It’s okay. Don’t keep her waiting. I’ll see you soon,” I say through my sobs.
“Promise?” she says.
“When it’s time for me to go, I’ll come find you. I promise.”
“Did you hear my mom?”
“No, what did she say?”
“She said I was lucky to have such a wonderful friend and thank you for taking such good care of her daughter.”
“Tell her I was the lucky one. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“She said not for long.”
“What?” I ask.
“I have to go now or we’ll miss the train.”
“Go on. Go to her. I love you, Alyssa.”
I feel her go limp as she lets go and leaves her failing body. I’m holding her, rocking her, shaking and bawling. Sutton closes the door, leaving me to mourn my friend.
I cover her with a blanket, trying to warm her body even though I know she’s gone. Darkness overtakes the room as the candle melts down low. She’s been gone only a minute, and already her room feels colder, devoid of the brightness captured in her spirit. I long to read to her one more day or tell her what she means to me, but it’s done. Instead, I just sit and stare at her, asking why… why… why her? That could’ve been me instead.
I feel an arm on my shoulder and turn around, hoping to see Cole, but it’s Sutton, standing behind me with an unfamiliar man. At first, my grief clouds my judgment and I think they’re here for me. I cling to Alyssa’s body, unwilling to move. I won’t let them take me away. But when Sutton reaches out to stroke my hair and his sad green eyes meet mine, my stomach drops. I know who they’re here for.
CHAPTER 8
My intention wasn’t to accompany Alyssa to the morgue on the fourth floor, but I can’t seem to let go yet. The reality doesn’t hit me even as her body lies in front of my eyes. Her chest doesn’t rise and her lips are a pale white. The mortician ambles about the small room, performing various duties that seem to seal Alyssa’s fate. He zips her tiny frame into a heavy black bag, and I watch as every last inch of her skin disappears from the world, sealing her inside. It’s like her light has been snuffed out by that bag and I want to rip it off. Then the mortician places the bag onto a gurney and begins to wheel her out of the room. Panic surges through me. I can’t let her go alone! I jump in front of the door and block his way out.
“I’m going with her!”
“No, you’re not,” Sutton says. “You’re very much alive and I plan on keeping you that way.” He grabs me around my waist, picks me up, and moves me out of the way.
Before he puts me on my feet, I wrap my arms around his neck and plead.
“I promised her I wouldn’t leave. I have to go with her. She wanted to be cremated. I have to make sure it happens.” His grip relaxes and he sets me on my feet. “I have to make sure she gets there safely.”
Beep. Beep. Sutton glances at his beeper. “A guard’s been injured. I have to go immediately.” His eyes plead in apology. “Stay here.” He disappears into another patient’s room, so I take off and catch the gurney.
“I thought he told you to stay,” the boy says.
“What’s it going to hurt? He won’t even know I’m gone.”
I glance up in time to see two guards walking toward us. I recognize the one from the incident in the garage. His skeptical eyes evaluate us as we pass, so I fix mine ahead, attempting to avoid provocation. The weight of their stares burns holes in my back, and I shudder. I feel vulnerable without Cole around and I doubt Mr. Mortician Boy knows any fighting tactics. They pass without a word and I exhale with relief.
“I’m Benjamin, by the way,” he says. “Sorry about your friend.”
I look over forcing a grin. “Thank you,” I manage to say. “I’m Lexi.”
He wears thin glasses and has shaggy red hair that partially hides his yellow brand. He pushes Alyssa’s body into the elevator and I squeeze in beside him. Before I finish my deep breath, we reach our destination.
As the doors open, the air sends a shiver up my spine and goose bumps rise on my arms. I glance around and rub my arms, trying to ignore the fact more people like Alyssa lay hidden in this room. It’s dark and cool with large refrigerators thrumming in the background. Three homemade wooden tables line the middle of the room. Don’t get sick. Don’t pass out.
Benjamin must sense my nervousness as he rolls the gurney to the back wall. “They’re just refrigerators.”
“I figured. Just kind of freaks me out a bit. It’s just… I don’t want her sealed in a body bag and locked in a refrigerator—”
“It’s not her anymore,” he says. “It’s just her earthly body she had to leave to get to heaven.”
“And you believe all that?”
“I have to. It’s the only way I make it through each day… Knowing there’s a light at the end of the tunnel calms me.”
“Oh, I’ve heard that saying before, about the light at the end of a tunnel.”
“Lots of people used it before the commander took over.”
“Oh, that’s right, my dad used to say it.”
Thinking about my dad and hearing his voice in my head make me choke on my words a little. “Once, when I was about six years old, I had an argument with a girlfriend of mine from school. At that age, it seemed like the end of the world. I remember crying when my dad picked me up in his small blue car. He wrapped his arms around me and said, ‘Honey, I know you don’t see it now, but there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.’” At the time, I didn’t weigh his words carefully, but now they ring fresh and true in my ears. So many times he tried to prepare me for the future without ever knowing what I’d face. God, I miss you, Daddy.