Where Have You Gone

Chapter 4️⃣8️⃣

Day 7

Night had settled over the hospital like a held breath. The corridors outside Anne’s room had quieted, and even the machines seemed to hum more softly, as if respecting the gravity of the hours that followed surgery.

Anne was sleeping—finally—after a day of pokes, pain meds, and half-hearted jokes from Richie that had made Irin tear up more than laugh. Her parents had gone to the hospital cafeteria for a late dinner, needing a break neither of them admitted to. Becky sat by the window, one hand gently stroking Anne’s blanket, the other resting on her lap, clenched tightly.

She heard the door open.

And she knew who it was before she heard the voice.

“I thought you might still be awake,” Freen said, quietly.

There was a moment of silence too long to be comfortable.

Becky tilted her head slightly, not turning. “Of course I am. It’s not like I can close my eyes and pretend I didn’t almost lose her.”

The room held still. Even the air seemed to freeze.

“She’s strong,” Freen said after a beat. “She came through beautifully.”

“Because of you.” Becky’s voice was flat, unreadable.

Freen didn’t respond. She set a cup down near Becky’s hand. “Tea. It’s lukewarm. Hospital hours aren’t kind to anything warm.”

Becky didn’t reach for it.

Instead, she whispered, “They told me hopefully she can go home in two days.”

Freen nodded, then remembered Becky couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

A heavy silence spread between them like fog.

“So that’s it?” Becky asked, and her voice trembled just slightly. “You walk in, save her heart, and vanish?”

Freen exhaled. “Is that what you think I do?”

“I think you’re very good at leaving.”

The words landed like a slap neither of them expected.

Freen didn’t speak.

Becky pressed her palms to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yes,” Freen said. “You did.”

That stopped Becky cold.

And Freen took a step closer, voice steadier now. “You meant it. And maybe you’re right.”

Becky lowered her hands. Her eyes, unseeing, looked toward the window. “I’ve spent a long time surviving the people who promised not to disappear.”

Freen swallowed the lump rising in her throat. “And I’ve spent just as long regretting the ones I let walk away.”

Becky flinched—not because she understood what Freen meant, but because something in her recognized the crack in that voice. It sounded like a wound trying to stay stitched.

“I don’t know what this is,” Becky whispered. “I don’t know why being near you feels like standing in a house I once lived in—before it burned down.”

Freen’s breath hitched.

She reached out, brushing her fingers close to Becky’s hand—but not touching. “I’m not here to take anything from you. Not again.”

Becky finally turned her face toward her, throat tight. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I couldn’t not be.”

That was too much.

Too raw.

Becky stood up, her movements sudden, sharp. Her cane tapped twice on the tile before she steadied herself.

“You have no idea what it’s like to want something and not be allowed to remember why,” she said.

Freen looked at her, eyes wet, voice barely holding steady. “And you have no idea what it’s like to be remembered by someone who doesn’t know who you are anymore.”

That silence—the one that cuts—settled between them like dusk.

“I shouldn’t have come tonight,” Freen said quietly.

But she didn’t leave.

And Becky didn’t move.

her eyes. “You said earlier… it felt like I already understood the parts you don’t say out loud.”

Becky nodded.

Freen stepped forward—just once. “Then let me say this, even if you don’t believe it: I’m not walking away”. “ Not again” Freen whispered the last part to herself.

Becky’s fingers twitched at her side. She didn’t take Freen’s hand.

But she didn’t pull away when Freen brushed her knuckles against hers.

She just stood there, trembling with something unnamed.

“Two days,” Becky whispered, finally. “That’s all we have.”

Freen didn't talk but stayed with her.