a work of art

chapter 47: falling back

TRIGGER WARNING: suicide, hospitals, car crash aftermath (very minimal wound description)

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The only thing I could keep in my stomach over the next several hours were the sips of water Billie practically poured in my mouth for me. I sat frozen in my seat on the plane, unable to snap out of the panic-induced fog that descended the moment I heard of Claire's accident.

Billie sat next to me, holding my hand. I knew part of her was focused on me, making sure I was okay. But an even bigger part of her was just holding it together while she tried not to panic over Claire. I gripped her hand back; we were each others lifeline.

When we landed, before we were even off the plane, Billie immediately tried to call Claire's mom again. This time she answered, and Billie practically yelled into the phone.

"Oh, thank god. Ms. Cottrill, this is Billie Eilish. Is Claire okay? We just landed in Boston and we'd like to come see her."

I gripped her thigh while the plane circled the tarmac of the small airport. Billie listened intently while Claire's mom talked, then motioned for me to hand her my phone. She opened the maps app and punched in the hospital Claire was in.

"Thank you," Billie said, her voice much softer now. "We'll be there soon."

She hung up, and let her hand fall to her lap. "She... hasn't woken up yet...

I held back a sob. "But she's okay?"

She shook her head slowly. "Baby... it's bad..."

I felt the hysteria rising, but I gripped Bill's hand instead. My lifeline.

Billie's manager had set up security while we flew, and they were waiting for us at the tiny airport. We urged the driver to get us there as quickly as possible.

I shook the whole way there, unsure of how I'd make it into the hospital. I felt so sick by now, so completely torn apart by nerves that my stomach was wrecked, and I'd had a headache for hours. Billie stared out the window, ignoring me. She was trapped in her own anxieties now, slowly losing her grip.

Security helped us get in the hospital through a side loading entrance. Billie had texted Claire's mom, who met us there.

Looking into this woman's face was like looking into Claire's in 20 years. She was lovely, like her daughter; warm, with fluffy brown hair, freckles, and the same blue-gray eyes.

She hugged Billie when she saw her. "Thank you for coming, honey. She'll be so happy you're here. She told me you two got so close on tour."

Billie bit her lip to hold back tears, unable to answer, and I squeezed her hand. Her mom turned to me.

"You must be Lucy."

I nodded, and she seemed to stare deep into my soul. I saw Claire in her eyes so intensely, it took my breath away. What did she see in me? Then she nodded, and started walking.

"Come on, I'm sure you want to see her."

We followed along behind her, and nerves hit my stomach like a truck. What state were we about to find her in?

Claire's room was at the end of the hall. She was out of the ICU, since she had stabilized, but she was still unconscious. Part of this was from all the drugs they'd given her to keep her body stable. Her team hoped she would wake up within the next couple of days.

Her mom told us all of this in a shaky voice as we walked. Finally, we reached her room, and Billie's grip tightened painfully on my hand.

"I'll give you some time. Frankly, I'm grateful for the break... I need to make some calls. Go on in... and, girls? Brace yourselves. It's a lot."