Loving Ashlynn (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 4 - Hiding In Plain Sight (Samson Conrad POV) Pt. 3

A/N: Not Thoroughly Edited. 

 

 

 

Chapter 4 – Hiding In Plain Sight (Samson Conrad POV) Pt.3

"Come on son," my father interrupts my blank staring, his hand on my shoulder, nodding I stand shakily, following him, "love, I'm going to get us all something to drink while we wait," my mom only nods her eyes on the door that my uncle Trevor left behind after finally telling us that they'd be moving my sister and Fatima into rooms now that they were no longer in the intensive care unit.

"I'd love to help!" my friend Taylor, jumps to her feet, Devin her sister nodding as well, but my dad waves them off, "No thank you girls, I just want to a moment to speak with Samson," he throws his head in the direction of the elevator and we walk together in silence until he's pressed the button for the cafeteria. This is different, I think silently, swaying on my feet from front to back the motion calming, but my mind is barely holding on it feels.

"You heard your uncle Trevor, he said Talia is fine-"

My head snaps to my fathers, eyes wide, wild even. Was he serious right now? Talia is fine? "That's... not what I heard," I choke out painfully. "You know she cannot... he said she could get an infection-"

"Talia has third degree burns, they're already doing what they can for her," my father Ansel says softly, "This is not the same as-" it's only look from me and all he does is stop speaking, the both of us aware of what he wants to say but does not. We do not talk about it... I do understand though. Not completely but I think if I were in everyone's position, I'd find it difficult to speak of, I do find it that way already.

"Someone helped Talia, this is not the same Samson," he rewords his sentence, tone adamant as though that is all I would need to believe him. Like a young child that hangs on the word of a parent, my father, my hero said it would be all right, so it'd be all right. That infallible pedestal I placed him on as a child no longer held true now that I was older. The door dings and neither of us move for a few seconds until we do, walking out side by side, "in fact, the same someone that helped Talia, I hear you gave a hard time," his nonchalance is just a show.

I snort, wondering who opened their mouths, Thaddeus? Caterina? Harleigh?

"What happened?" Dad finally asks when I've not given any sort of reaction. "Today – I'm sure is –" he stops speaking shaking his head eyes on his feet we continue to the lunch area, stopping at the counter, dad quietly puts in his order. We say nothing else on the subject of my treatment of Fatima, or anything else for that matter, it's a day hard enough on it's own, the family did not need anything to increase our inner turmoil, but that is life.

It could only be likened to the ocean waves and undercurrent.

Just because you're down on your luck did not mean life granted you a pass. Sometimes the waters were calm, other times it was a fight to stay above water. I thought we'd been trying to stay above water for the last year, but with Talia's hospitalization, I guess the sorrow had been our calm.