Something was wrong, I could hear it in the tone of his voice. Without a second thought, I walked out of my room and headed downstairs and into the sitting room, where I found my parents. I was surprised to see my brothers and Kale there too. Everyone was on their feet, staring at me, and trepidation filled the room.
“Is it Nanny?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
My mother shook her head. “No, darling.”
“Uncle Harry?” I pressed, noticing he wasn’t in the room either.
My mother shook her head once more, but this time her eyes glazed over with tears.
“Tell me,” I almost shouted with panic.
My mother burst into tears and couldn’t speak around her sobs, so I looked to my father, who was frowning deeply at me. “Sit down, honey.”
“I don’t want to sit down,” I argued.
Kale, who was standing behind my father, came to my side and put his hand on my back, nudging my body to move towards the sofa, where I caved and sat down.
“Okay, I’m sitting down. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
My father blew out a saddened breath. “It’s Lavender,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.
My mind went blank then, and any logical form of thinking went out the window. “What’s Lavender?” I asked dumbly.
My father looked positively gutted. “She was driving home from work today,” he said on a sorrowful sigh, “and got into an accident.”
I felt my stomach churn.
“Lavender was in a car accident?” I asked, sounding surprisingly calm.
I felt as if my voice was on a speakerphone, because it suddenly sounded robotic and slowed down, like I was tripping on something and was hearing things.
“Yes, sweetheart, she was,” my father replied, his eyes, and everyone else’s, watching me with intent.
I heard my heartbeat as it thudded away. “We have to go to the hospital,” I said, and tried to stand up, but Kale, who was still next to me, placed his hand on my knee, halting my movements.
I looked down to his hand, my eyes drilling holes into it. It was the first time since we had been together that he had touched me in a way that wasn’t a friendly hug or nudge. It made me look at him with fear of what he was going to say next. The despair I saw in his eyes cut me in half.
“No,” I said to him, almost glaring. “She’s okay.”
The muscles in his jaw rolled back and forth, and he stared at me. “I’m so sorry.”
“No!” I said louder. “She’s okay, she’s just in the hospital—”
“Her dad rang your mum, Lane.” Kale cut me off, the hurt he felt for me plastered over his face.
I became aware of everything.
My heartbeat.
The churning in my stomach.
The sweat gathering in the palms of my hands.
“Laney Baby,” he murmured, and lifted his hand to my face. “I’m so sorry.”
Shut up, my mind screamed.
I shook my head. “It’s not true.”
“She died, kid,” he whispered. “Her injuries were too much for her to overcome.”
I gripped onto my stomach when it lurched. “I’m going to be sick,” I muttered.
I felt his arms come around me. One second I was in the sitting room with my family, and the next I was running up the stairs with Kale right on my heels. I made it into the bathroom just in time to vomit into the toilet. Kale was holding my hair back for me with one hand and rubbing my back with the other.
When I was finished, I sat back on my heels and took the tissue Kale offered me. I wiped my mouth, threw the tissue in the toilet and flushed it. I went still then and just repeated what Kale had said about Lavender over and over in my mind.
She died, kid.
“I have to go to the hospital,” I said to Kale without looking at him. “I have to see Lavender.”
Kale helped me to my feet and held onto my arm tightly as we descended the stairs. I walked straight to the front door and opened it, causing a stir behind me.
“Where is she going?” my mother asked, her voice rising an octave.
Kale sighed. “She wants to go to the hospital.”
My mother began to cry again, and I didn’t know why, but it was annoying me, so I walked out of the house and waited by my brother’s car. Lochlan came outside and unlocked the doors, so I got inside and sat in the back seat, buckling my seatbelt.
Both my brother and Kale got into the car, and neither of them spoke to each other, or to me, as Lochlan backed out of the garden and drove to the hospital. It was the longest car journey of my life, but in reality it was only a few minutes. When we got there, Kale came into the hospital with me and did the talking at reception when I just stared at the lady who was asking me stupid questions.
He got permission for us to go to the family room at the back of the hospital near the morgue, and we walked together in silence.
“Say something, Lane,” he pleaded.
I swallowed. “I have to see Lavender.”
We came to a door with “Family Room” printed very clearly on it, and Kale lightly knocked. A few seconds later, a man opened the door, a man with bloodshot, swollen eyes, a man who was Lavender’s father.
“Mr Grey,” I whispered when I walked into the family room.
Mrs Grey, who was sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by some other women, looked up when I entered the room, and when she saw me, she burst into tears and got to her feet. I instantly walked to her and encased her in my arms, holding her body to mine.
“She’s gone, Lane,” she cried into my chest.
My heart squeezed with pain, but for some reason, no tears came.
Not even one.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, and gently swayed her from side to side.
I sat down next to Mrs Grey and her other family members while Kale hovered by the doorway, watching me with a sad expression. I turned my focus from him to Lavender’s family, and I listened as they spoke about what happened to her.
She was driving home from her shift at work, and a drunk driver ran a red light and slammed into the driver’s side of her car, causing a blow to her temple that killed her instantly. My stomach threatened to revolt as I listened to the details that the police passed on to Lavender’s family, so I tried to block them out.
“Mrs Grey,” I said.
She looked at me.
“May I see her?” I asked, praying she wouldn’t deny me.
Her lower lip wobbled as she nodded. “We’ve seen her already, she doesn’t look injured at all.”
I stood up and asked, “Where do I go?”
Kale cleared his throat. “I’ll bring you. I saw a sign pointing to the morgue.”
I hugged Lavender’s parents, said goodbye to her family, then left the room with Kale. W
e followed signs to the morgue, and when we reached it, I told the man outside the double doors that I had permission to see Lavender.
I gave him her full name, and he passed the information on to a staff member inside. He told me to wait a few minutes, and then I’d be allowed in when they were ready to show her. I thanked the man and lingered outside with Kale.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked me.
I was never surer of anything in my life.
“I have to see her,” I replied.
He was quiet for a minute or two, and just as he was about to speak, the double doors to the morgue opened, and I was told I could go see Lavender.
“Wait,” Kale said as I began to walk forward.
He grabbed hold of my hand and said, “You don’t want to see her like that, Lane. You think you do, but you don’t.”
I pulled my hand from his. “You don’t know a thing about what I want, Kale. You never have.”
I turned away from him and walked through the doors that led to the morgue. I nodded to the man who allowed me entry, and I followed a different man wearing a long white coat into a very cold room. I hesitated for a few seconds at the entryway of the room, but I walked through the doors. When the sight of my friend lying on a steel bed came into view, I placed my hand against my stomach in silent prayer for it not to spill.
I walked slowly over to Lavender, keeping my eyes on her beautiful face, and not on the white sheet covering her body. When I was next to her I reached out and placed the back of my fingers against her cheek, my heart squeezing with pain when I felt how cold she was. She had died only a few hours ago, but already her body was drained of heat, and it was hard to bear because I knew how much she hated being cold.
“How did you get here, Lav?” I whispered to her.
When she didn’t reply, my lower lip trembled.
I could see the point on her temple where she had been struck. It was discoloured and looked a little dented, like something had crushed into the side of her skull. It was comforting knowing she had felt no pain, and she looked like she was sleeping, but my heart knew otherwise. Her cold skin was paler than I had ever seen, and her lips weren’t pink anymore; they were a pasty white colour.