Everything Has Changed: Book Four

Chapter Sixteen: Faked

Chapter Sixteen: Faked

"Gracie, your Mom died."

I hesitate.

"What?" I ask. "Danny, that's not funny."

He doesn't smile or act like he's joking.

My face falls slightly and I take the letter from his hand.

To Gracelyn, Scott, Beatrice, Caleb, and Daniel,

I know none of you were on good terms with Eileen, but if you're still the good people I knew you to be, I know it matters to you what I'm about to say.

Eileen passed away yesterday October 2nd at 12:34AM. She had liver cancer, probably from all the drinking over the years.

She was sober and she had been for four years. She was doing good. She had a job. Her own house. A good boyfriend, and then she got cancer and had been bedridden for months before she passed away.

Anyways, if you want to come to her funeral, it's Thursday, October 12th at 12PM. The address is 311 Crain Hwy S, Glen Bernie, MD 21061.

Even though you guys were on bad terms, she would want all of you there. Micah can come too, of course, but I'm assuming you guys don't want him near this. I understand.

I stand there, reading the letter over and over again.

She's dead. She's dead. She's dead.

"Grace." Danny whispers softly.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say.

Am I supposed to cry? Because right now I'm just shocked.

I grab my phone and open the group chat.

I made a new one without Abby and Garret but I don't care. I click on the one with Abby and Garret.

Me: my moms dead

My hands are shaking. I set the letter with my phone on the counter. My heart is beating so fast I can feel it in my throat.

Just two weeks ago I was wondering how she was.

And now she's dead.

My throat feels tight and my eyes feel wet. I take a deep breath to calm myself down but it makes it worse, coming out shaky.

My phone chimes on the counter.

Abby: what?

Me: she's dead.

Abby: how do you know that

Me: she had liver cancer I guess

Abby: but who told you

Me: my gma. Mom's mom. She wrote a letter

I try to take a picture of it but my hands are shaking.

"Let me." Danny whispers. He takes the picture and sends it.

I imagine going to the funeral and seeing her dead.

I can't go. I can't.

I run my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath, and another, and another. My knees feel weak and before I can hit the ground, strong familiar arms wrap around me. I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my head in his shoulder. My phone starts ringing on the counter, but I make no more to grab it and either does Danny. He carries me to the couch and sits me down, sitting on the coffee table in front of me.