A Way Back Home | Adopted by Gerard Way (Book Two)

The Drugs Never Worked (44)

Gerard's POV

I stayed in bed a lot longer than usual even though there were things I should've been doing. It was like if I didn't get up to see that Eve wasn't there, I could pretend that yesterday had never happened. That I'd walk by her room later and see her reading a book upside-down because she was "training her brain," or I'd see her at her desk, writing in a notebook, the most concentrated look on her face.

What ultimately made me leave the comfort of my bed at noon was that I suddenly remembered the envelope I left on the coffee table in the living room. The one with Emerald's name on it.

I got dressed in my clothes from yesterday that I had thrown haphazardly onto the floor last night before collapsing into bed. I thought it'd be another sleepless night, but nearly as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out like a light. I guess the events from the day really wore me out.

It was kind of nice to spend a few hours not thinking about all of it.

I was ready to leave the house at about half past 12 when Linds reminded me that Em was still in school. So, I was forced to wait around anxiously until she'd be home.

I tried to sit in my office and write, or do anything productive that might take my mind off things, but it was useless. My phone that I kept checking was a distraction and so was everything else. Everything I looked at reminded me of her. Of course, there were the family pictures on my wall, but even the plain black shirt I was wearing reminded me of her because of the time she said that plain shirts are impossible to find in the women's section of any clothing store. Then I see her ukulele leaning up against the wall behind my door. I hadn't even noticed she had left it here instead of taking it with her.

So now I find myself bringing it to her room and placing in gently on the top shelf in her closet, where she always kept it. Instead of leaving the room, though, I stay put, just standing in the middle of the floor. Am I doing this simply to make myself hurt? I must. I can't think of any other reason why I'd keep coming in here, the blank walls and empty bookshelf no easier to look at than they were yesterday.

This time, though, I step into her bathroom. The cabinet is open and empty, and so are the drawers. But one thing catches my eye: the bottom drawer is closed. It looks like she forgot to empty it. When I open it slowly, it resembles the time I opened one of these drawers to find the lunch money she'd been hiding.

My heart stops when I see what's in here this time.

Pills.

Pills thrown carelessly into the bottom of this otherwise empty drawer.

I fall to my knees next to it and run my fingers through them, too many to count. I immediately recognize the small yellow capsules as being Eve's antidepressants she was supposed to be taking every morning. I saw her taking them every morning. She'd hold them between her teeth, and then take a sip of water—

It was all an act.

And now she was in a new city with a mother that doesn't know the extent of her struggles. Laura was entrusted with finding Eve a new therapist, refilling her prescriptions. But if Eve was able to sneak around like this under my nose, she'd most certainly be able to do it with a mother whom she hadn't seen since she was seven.

"We have to get her back," I conclude after telling Lindsey about what I just found.

She nods in agreement and leans her head on my shoulder, sitting with her legs crisscrossed under her on the couch. "I just don't understand why she stopped taking them," she breathes. "I thought they were helping her."