When All is Lost

Chapter 49

I saw Emily. My little sister had been no more than a shadow of a memory or a wiry tendril of hope that sometimes clutched at my heart. But for once, it wasn't the dead in my dreams. It was her.

Her easy smile was the same, but her eyes were guarded in a way that made my chest ache. She was what was supposed to be at the end of all of this – one more chance to speak again. Yet, despite her sitting across from me, she looked distorted, almost faded.

From some angles, she almost looked like Abby. From others, I could have sworn she looked like Neveah. She stood as still as a statue letting me circle her. I was sure if I'd reached out my hand it would have gone right through her.

By the time I woke up, I realized seeing her hadn't been a kindness. I'd been mocking myself with false hope and twisted mixed metaphors. I didn't see her in anyone else or them in her. She was not another person who'd I'd failed.

Laughter from a different part of the house had me rubbing the last of the sleep from my eyes. After taking care of the would-be robbers, the rest of the night had been uneventful. I was even able to get what almost constituted a full night's sleep after my shift on watch.

Stretching my stiff limbs, I stood to realize that only Carlos and the smoldering embers of our fire were left in the dining room.

"Hey," I said, clearing my voice after realizing how scratchy it sounded.

"Good morning." His cheeks looked a little more sunken in than I remembered and his color was still off, but he looked relaxed enough.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, craning my neck in search of the rest of our group. From the corner of my eye, I saw him stiffen.

His jaw worked in agitation. "I'll tell you what I told Misty – I'm fine."

I gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry." More laughter came from what sounded like the family room. "Where's everyone else?"

Carlos gestured to the hallway and I took that as an indication that I'd have to find the answer on my own. I left him and started to head off in the direction of the laughter but paused only a few steps into the hallway

Someone had drawn all over the walls. The images were of varying sizes, but they were all done in blue marker, marking up the space every few feet. I studied the images as I walked, trailing my fingers along the wall as I did.

A teddy bear. The Eiffel Tower. A dog with a frisbee. A birthday cake.

A goat?

They were all intricately done and while they were clearly done by one person's hand, they seemed to be styled to different peoples' tastes. At the end of the hall, a large image of a bench under a tree with falling leaves took up most of the wall.

They found a red marker.

The blue and red on the cream wall made the image captivating. The drawing evoked senses of sadness and longing. But as I stared at the nearly barren tree, I could see the way the colors swirled together were meant to bring out the vibrancy in the lonely scene as though it was drawn in defiance.

Everything in the hallway was meant to mean something. Hope. Loss. Desire. It all expressed a will to live – to fight on.

And it left me cold.

Pressure.

It was like a beating pulse, taking up even more space in my chest than my heart. It thrummed through me, making my breaths short and my thoughts jagged and sharp by the time I entered the family room.

Ray was in the middle of drawing a picture of a football stadium. To my surprise, Carter was the one excitedly telling him which team logos he should draw – even to Jamie's and Ollie's protests.