Page 14 of Never Forget
Sam.
He was sitting on a bench near the hallway. Hunched forward. Elbows on his knees.
He'd been crying. I could see it from across the room. The red eyes. The wet tracks on his cheeks. The shattered look of a man who had already said goodbye.
All the hope I'd been clinging to—the desperate bargaining, the maybes, the what-ifs—it died right there in the hospital lobby.
Jack was gone.
"Sam?"
His head came up. Our eyes met.
And something in my chest cracked open. I could see the same devastation, the same disbelief, the same raw wound I'd been carrying since that phone call.
I didn't remember moving. I just remembered reaching him. My arms around his neck. My face against his chest. The smell of smoke and soap and something familiar I couldn't name.
I stopped holding on. And I broke.
CHAPTER 3
Sam
She felt smaller than I remembered.
Maybe grief did that to people. Shrank them down to something fragile, something that could break if you held too tight.
Jamie's face pressed into my chest. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt. She was shaking, these small tremors that moved through her whole body. I could feel the moment she stopped trying to hold it together.
The hospital lobby hummed around us, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered except the woman in my arms and the brother we'd both lost.
Then I saw him.
A man stood a few feet behind Jamie, watching us with an expression I couldn't quite read. He was tall, well-dressed, the kind of put-together that came from money and confidence. Everything about him said New York—the sharp cut of his jaw, the way he held himself like he was used to being the most important person in any room.
After a while, her breathing slowed. Jamie pulled back. Her eyes were red, her face blotchy, and she was still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She wiped her cheeks with theback of her hand and turned slightly, gesturing to the man behind her.
"Sam, this is Mark. My boyfriend."
The word landed somewhere in my chest and stayed there.
"Mark, this is Sam Reeves. Jack's best friend."
Mark stepped forward and extended his hand. His grip was firm. "Sam. I'm sorry we're meeting under these circumstances."
"Thank you for coming with her. For not letting her do this alone."
He nodded once. That was all either of us had.
Jamie stood between us, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold her own pieces together.
"Where is he?" Jamie's voice was barely above a whisper.
"They moved him to the morgue. But they said only family can see him." I swallowed. "I can take you there."
We walked together, the three of us, through hallways that seemed to stretch longer than they should. When we reached the door, I stopped.
"I'll give you some time," I said. "Take as long as you need."
