Sadie (18+)

Chapter 34

I woke to the sound of crying, but it wasn't just any cry. It was the kind of wail that comes from torment, from grief, from something deep and troubling.

Vincent, of course, was no longer on the couch with me. He must have moved me during the night, as a blanket had been draped over me, with a pillow under my head.

After discreetly tuning in, I realized the cries belonged to Gina.

I rose up against the couch cushion with reluctance, my body igniting in a panicked sweat. She must have caught us last night—why else would she be sobbing at the kitchen table?

And then I heard Julia, her bawls even louder than Gina's. The sounds that emanated from the two women were sharp and painful in my ears.

I could just see my life now, its remnants crumbling to dust, blowing away into the wind. They knew, and they were waiting to confront me.

From the couch, I peeked over the ledge, finding not only Gina and Julia, but Vincent. The man looked tired and devastated, the rings under his eyes darker than ever, his hair unkempt. Unlike the two at the table, he remained silent, chewing on his lower lip, the muscles in his jaw clenching.

Julia's body quivered as she sobbed into her hands, and Gina, her eyes swollen and puffy, stared down at the table as tears leaked, a phone situated in her trembling grasp.

I summoned the courage to stand and walk over to the family, combing through my untamed hair with my shaking fingers, the color draining from my cheeks upon each lethal second.

"Sadie, honey," Gina began, "I didn't wake you for school this morning. My mom—Julia's grandmother, I mean—passed away last night. We just got the call."

If the situation hadn't called for my emotional support to the grieving family, I would have jumped up and down with glee. Instead, I plastered on an appropriate, solemn expression.

Of course, it was a horrible thing Julia's grandmother had died, but I couldn't help but feel selfishly relieved that my life wasn't actually destroyed and broken into pieces at my feet.

I wrapped Gina in a hug, affectionately rubbing her back. The woman heaved against me. I moved over to Julia, offering the same support. She buried her damp face into my abdomen. I kissed her forehead and squeezed a shoulder before moving on to Vincent, cautiously wrapping my arms around his neck for a quick, awkward embrace. The man's body tensed against me, then loosened after a moment, his breath warm on my skin.

I brought myself to an empty chair, slouching. "I'm so sorry, guys. I'll help in any way I can."

The death had come on suddenly—based on the medical examiner's professional opinion, it was revealed it had been a fall on her way to the bathroom, her head taking the brunt of it. Her frail bones and weak body had not been able to handle the extent of her injuries. After all, she was eighty-six.

I didn't bother Vincent during the days leading up to the services, as it would be cruel during a time of grieving. I did, however, help Gina prepare for them, assisting in any way I could.

Gina was so upset that she couldn't bear to look at the photos, so she busied herself with the arrangements instead, calling relatives, checking in on her father, deciding what kind of flowers to fill the parlor with, what dress to put her mother in. I could see these choices weighing on her, and it hurt to witness the pressure of making such impossible decisions.

Julia helped me with the collage the day after the news, but mentally she wasn't all there, and understandably so. Tony arrived home almost immediately upon hearing what had happened, though he spent most of his time with Vincent. They threw around a football in the backyard as Julia and I organized piles of photographs, the men deep in conversation, the ball being tossed with minimal strength.