Protection

Chapter 16

TRIS POV

Fourth of July. I have always loved this holiday.

Fireworks, sparklers, barbecues, treats...it is probably the only thing I look forward to every summer, and I have since I was a little girl.

And a large part of it is that my parents are home all day to spend the holiday with Caleb and I. Family time is unusual, so I will take whatever I can get, even though they have been teasing Tobias and I nonstop since we revealed that we are dating.

Not kidding, they are actually having breakfast with us today. Like full on sitting down at the long dining table and eating and conversing with us until our meals are completely gone. We actually feel like a family.

But there is something missing.

The spot next to me—the spot where Tobias usually sits—is vacant, which is strange because Tobias is never late to anything and is an early riser. Something is off.

"Have you guys seen Tobias?" I ask my family, wondering if he could have gone somewhere.

My mother shakes her head and keeps her gaze fixed on her food, along with the other two, who don't seem interested. "No, honey," she replies.

I bite my lip and try not to worry about anything. He is probably just in his room; I must be overreacting. "Can I go see where he is?"

"Of course."

So I excuse myself from the table and make my way through the mansion to Tobias's room. The door is shut, but it always is, so I think nothing of it and turn the handle.

The room is dark because the curtains prevent any light from entering the room whatsoever. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but when they do, I see Tobias's figure under his sheets, facing away from the door. At first I think he is sleeping, until I see that his body is trembling.

"Tobias?" I call quietly.

He doesn't move, but his nearly silent sobs clue me in to the fact that he is crying.

I have never seen him cry, and I don't know how to handle this, so I go with my instincts and crawl on his bed to be close to him for starters. His body is stiff when I touch his shoulder.

"Hey," I whisper. "What's wrong?"

I receive no answer. He shudders from held-back emotion, and I wait patiently until he decides to tell me what the matter is, my arm wrapped around his middle and my head tucked into the space between his neck and shoulder.

When he gathers enough strength, he reaches over to the nightstand and grabs his phone. He scans his thumbprint to unlock it, and on the screen lies the answer to my question.

The voicemail transcript reads: "Hi, this is Elizabeth White. I'm a social worker who works at Valley Medical Center. I am afraid that I have important information regarding your mother. Please return my call as soon as possible. Thank you."

I sigh sympathetically, knowing that it means his mom has passed away. "Oh, Tobias."

And that cues another fit of crying. He keeps his sobbing inaudible to mask his anguish, but I still feel pain radiating from him. I can't see his face and I don't want to; I don't want to see how much he is hurting because it would cause me to break down. I hate when boys cry.

But it turns out that I don't need to look because his grief triggers mine. Before I know it, hot, involuntary tears are leaking down my face. His pain becomes my pain.

I can't begin to imagine what it would be like to lose my mother. And I don't know how to comfort him, but I hope that lying here with him is enough support for now.