“You’re making a huge mistake,” I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks.

She nodded. “Maybe, but it’s my mistake to make, just like it’s yours to make with Graham.” She crossed her arms and shivered as if a chill had found her. “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you like this but…I’m glad you know. My lease is up soon, so you’ll have to find a place. Look…we can still go on the hike if you want, to clear our heads.”

“You know what, Mari?” I grimaced and shook my head. “I’d rather not.”

The hardest part of life was watching a loved one walk straight into fire when all you could do was sit and watch them as they burned.

“You’ll stay with us,” Graham said over FaceTime from his hotel room in New York.

“No, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll find something. I’ll start searching the minute you get back in two days.”

“Until then you’ll stay with us, no ifs, ands, or buts. It’s fine. My house is big enough. I’m sorry, though, about Mari.”

I shivered at the thought of it all, at the idea of her going back to Parker. “I just don’t get it. How can she just forgive him?”

“Loneliness is a liar,” Graham told me, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he spoke. “It’s toxic and deadly most of the time. It forces people to believe they are better off with the devil himself than being alone, because somehow being alone means a person failed. Somehow being alone means a person isn’t good enough. So, more often than not, the poison of loneliness seeps in and makes a person believe that any kind of attention must stand for love. Fake love that is built on a bed of loneliness will fail—I should know. I’ve been alone all my life.”

“I hate that you just did that.” I sighed. “I hate that you just took my annoyance with my sister and made me want to go hug her.”

He chuckled. “Sorry. I can call her names if you’d…” His eyes narrowed as he stared at his phone. I noticed the panic in his stare instantly. “Lucille, I have to call you back.”

“Is everything okay?”

He hung up before I received a response.

I was a master of stories.

I knew how a great novel came to exist.

A great novel didn’t involve tossing together words that didn’t interconnect. In a great novel, each sentence mattered, each word had a meaning to the overall story arc. There was always forewarning to the plot twists and the different paths the novel would travel down, too. If a reader looked closely enough, they could always witness the warning signs. They could taste the heart of every word that bled on the page, and by the end, their palate would be satisfied.

A great story always had structure.

But life wasn’t a great story.

Real life was a mess of words that sometimes worked, and other times didn’t. Real life was an array of emotions that hardly made sense. Real life was a first draft novel with scribbles and crossed out sentences, all written in crayon.

It wasn’t beautiful. It came without warning. It came without ease.

And when the novel of real life came to fuck you up, it made sure to knock the air from your lungs and leave your bleeding heart for the wolves.

The message was from Karla.

She tried to call me, but I sent her to voicemail.

I was looking at Talon.

She left a voice message, but I ignored it.

I was staring into Lucille’s eyes.

She then sent me a text message that made a part of me die.

Dad’s in the hospital.

He had another heart attack.

Please come home.

I took the next flight home, my hands clenched the whole time, too nervous to take a full breath. When the plane landed, I grabbed the first taxi I could find and rushed to the hospital. Hurrying inside, I felt like my chest was on fire. The burning sensation shook me as I tried to blink away the emotion racing through my veins.

He must be okay.

He has to be okay…

If Professor Oliver didn’t make it through this, I wasn’t certain I’d survive. I wasn’t certain I’d survive if he wasn’t going to always be there for me. When I made it to the waiting room, my eyes fell to Mary and Karla first. Then, I noticed Lucy sitting with Talon sleeping in her lap. How long had she been there? How had she even known? I hadn’t mentioned I was coming back. Every time I’d tried to type out the words, I’d deleted them instantly. If I sent out the words that Professor Oliver had had a heart attack, it would be real. If I’d thought it was real, I would’ve died on the flight home for sure.

It couldn’t be real.

He couldn’t die.

Talon wouldn’t even remember him.

She needed to remember the greatest man in the world.

She needed to know my father.

“How did you know?” I asked Lucy, walking over and gently kissing Talon’s forehead.

Lucy nodded over to Karla. “She called me. I came right away.”

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I’m okay.” Lucy grimaced, took my hand in hers, and lightly squeezed it. “Are you?”

I narrowed my eyes and swallowed hard, speaking so low that I wasn’t certain the word actually left my lips. “No.”

My eyes darted over to Mary and I told Lucy I’d be back. She told me to take all the time I needed. I was thankful for that, for her watching over Talon, for her being there for my daughter and for me while I needed to be there for others.

“Mary,” I said, calling after her. She looked up and my heart cracked seeing the pain in her stare. Karla’s broken stare cracked my heart once more.

“Graham,” Mary cried, hurrying over to me.

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her so close to me. She parted her mouth to say more, but no words came out. She began sobbing uncontrollably, as did her daughter, who I pulled into the tight hug. I held them both against me, trying to convince their shaky bodies that everything would be okay.

I stood tall like a tree, not shaking because they needed me as their foundation. They needed strength, and I played the role.

Because that was what he would’ve wanted me to be.

Brave.

“What happened?” I asked Mary once she could calm down. I led her to the waiting room chairs, and we sat down.

Her back was curved as she clasped her fingers together, a little tremble still in her soul. “He was in his office reading, and when I went to check on him…” Her bottom lip started to tremble. “I have no clue how long he was down. If I could’ve gotten there faster…if…”

“No ifs, just now,” I told her. “You did everything you could. This isn’t your fault, Mary.”

She nodded. “I know, I know. We’ve been preparing for this day, but I just didn’t think it would come so soon. I thought we had more time.”

“Preparing?” I asked, confused.

She grimaced and tried to wipe away her tears, but more continued to fall. “He didn’t want me to tell you…”