Page 53 of True Blue

“Recent history of breast cancer. In remission. Persistent cough over the last month… refused treatment.”

The last part is forced out through gritted teeth.

“Nana, please wake up,” Teddy begs quietly over my shoulder.

I lean down and breathe for her again. Her mouth is cold, already stiffening at the corners.

Goddamn it, Ellie.

She said she would go to the doctor, and with work and the chaos of getting everything ready for Bluewater, I didn’t follow up.

Around Christmas, when I reminded her, she promised she would call. She would set up an appointment. Her color had only been barely better than now. Her cough was still wet-sounding.

I should have fucking insisted. I should have dragged her to the damn hospital myself.

But she would have hated that, and above all, I believe people own their choices about their bodies—treatment or not.

Now she’s dead.

And guilt gnaws at me.

By the time EMS gets here, my arms are cramping, my T-shirt is sticking to my back with sweat, and I feel dizzy from counting, from singing, from fucking praying.

“Ma’am, we have it,” I hear from my right.

I don’t stop.

I can’t stop.

I keep pressing hard on her chest.

Seven, eight, nine, ten…

“Ma’am. Please step back.”

If I stop, it will be real.

It will be over.

They’ll know what I know.

“Indie,” Teddy murmurs, his arms wrapping around my shoulders.

It’s his voice that makes me stop, slicing through my thoughts. I let him pull me away, my body going slack as he holds me to him desperately.

My lungs burn as I try to even out my breathing. My heart keeps slamming in my chest like it wants out.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dawn standing in Judd’s arms in the doorway. Teddy’s father, Judd, stands with his arms around Dawn, his face sleep-rumpled and irritated.

Dawn’s face is buried in his chest, her fingers clutching at his robe in a white-knuckle grip.

Empathy stings in my chest for her.

No matter what I feel for Dawn, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

“Time of death, 4:44 AM.”

The silence after that declaration is thick and heavy, but it lasts only a second before Teddy buries his face in my neck and lets out a horrible sound—a wounded, choking cry that hits me like a knife to my throat.