Page 50 of Lost
“She died before any of her dreams could come true. She’ll never get to go to college. She’ll never get to sing in front of thousands of people. And she’ll never get to meet Zack, his band, and all of their friends, who are as wonderful and kind as she always imagined they would be. And that’s not fair. She should have been able to do all of that and more. She wanted to make a difference in people’s lives, and we all know that she could have. But because of one idiot...”
He stopped himself here. Several people shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t care. There was a burning rage deep inside of him, and a part of him wanted to unleash that fury now. But he wouldn’t. Now wasn’t the time to talk about Alfonzo or the way the Columbus Police Department had failed his sister. Now was a time to talk about Dakota. Now was a time to say the things that still needed to be said to her.
He turned to the side, to her casket gleaming pristine and white and untouched by all the terrible things the world had to offer.
“I’m sorry,” he said to it. To his twin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there that night. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” He choked back a sob and forced himself to keep going. “I’m sorry that we didn’t find you sooner and that you had to die alone. But I’m here now. I’m here, sis.”
He wanted to throw the casket open. He wanted to see her face. But the thought of how she had looked in the morgue stopped him. He couldn’t stand to see her that way again and he hated that his very last memory of her had to be something so cruel. He thought back to the time before — before any of this had happened, when their mother had still been alive and they hadn’t known what lay around the corner.
“Don’t be too late!” his mother had called to him from the kitchen. “Say hello to Kieran for me!”
“Be as late as you want,” Dakota had said instead, winking at him from the couch. “You know I’ll cover for you.”
“I know,” had been his response. “But don’t worry. It’ll be an early night.”
“Sure, sure. Be safe, Ly. I love you.”
“I love you too, sis.”
He was on his knees before he knew it, his forehead resting against the casket. It was cool on his skin. Cool like the breeze had been the night he’d come home to find his entire life in ruins.
“I love you too, sis,” he repeated, and then he let his tears fall.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It had been a week since the funeral. A week in which Lysander had said little to anybody and had left his old room only a handful of times. He accepted company only from a select few of his friends and refused to come out for meals; he ate little, and Zack was genuinely starting to worry for the boy. He understood that Lysander needed time to grieve. He knew that such behaviour was probably to be expected. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
The band had returned to Mapleton Beach four days after the funeral. But he and Georgia were still in Columbus, still staying in Lysander’s old house, and Zack was determined that they would not be leaving until his son was ready. Columbus was exactly what Lysander needed. He needed his friends around him and he needed the familiarity of the house that he had been raised in. These were the best things for him as he stepped onto the path of recovery. Zack knew from personal experience.
Georgia assured him he was doing the right thing. It was reassuring that she felt this way, because he’d long decided that she was better at this parenting thing than he would ever be. After all, it wasn’t her who had made the terrible mistake of letting Lysander see his sister’s body in the morgue. She hadn’tevermade a mistake in regards to Lysander. That had been Zack’s doing. And he was going to make up for it in any way that he could, even if it meant living in Columbus and putting the rest of his life on hold. His son was more important.
It was late when the door to Lysander’s room opened, but it wasn’t Lysander who stepped out. It was Kieran Meyers, the boy Zack had come to know as Lysander’s best friend. Having him step out of the room now wasn’t a surprise. Kieran had been by Lysander’s side every waking moment since the funeral, staying the night despite his mother’s initial protests and keeping unwanted visitors at a safe distance. He was good for Lysander in more ways than Zack had ever anticipated.
Kieran was the dark to Lysander’s light, but he was every bit as kind and loyal. They were both athletic, both strong-willed, and they both shared that determination to do whatever they felt was right. To do whatever they felt they needed to in order tomakethings right.
It had been three days since Zack and Kieran had started their nightly meetings. It was early hours of the morning, an hour or so past midnight, and both Georgia and Lysander had long since fallen asleep. Zack didn’t sleep much these days, and Kieran — who seemed to get as little sleep as Zack himself — made for good company.
They stepped out onto the front lawn of the house. It was here that Zack had taken to having a nightly cigarette while Kieran sat on the front steps and lost himself in memory. It was out here they felt they could talk safely, without disturbing the sleeping Georgia or being overheard by Lysander, who might find their sympathy frustrating.
“How was he today?”
Zack was one whose company Lysander had refused. He permitted Zack entry to the room only on occasion, and even then he didn’t say much. He would just lie there, staring at nothing. But he was different with Kieran. With Kieran he would actually talk, would actually look alive, leaving Zack to get his information second hand.
“Pretty much the same,” Kieran replied. It was the same answer that he had given every night. “You just need to give him time.”
Zack knew this, better than anybody. He’d lost a brother, and he knew how painful it was. He knew the pain never truly went away. But he had never lost the two people closest to him in such a short period of time, and that was what concerned him. Lysander had lost both his mother and his twin — what if he didn’t recover from this? What if this pushed him over the edge? It was a thought that crossed Zack’s mind far too often these days. A worry he could never completely shake.
“You should take him back to California.”
Zack dropped the cigarette in surprise, quickly stomping it out before it could do any damage to the grass. Kieran watched him with little amusement, the look on his face a serious one. So he wasn’t kidding. Zack looked back at him.
“Why do you say that?”
Kieran stared down at his hands for the longest time, and for a while Zack feared the boy was not going to answer. But he knew there had to be a reason. Kieran had missed Lysander as much as Lysander had missed him. Why would he want him to leave?
“He’s suffocating here.” Kieran spoke slowly, as if he were choosing his words carefully. “Everywhere he goes in this house, there are memories. I see it in his eyes whenever he leaves his room — they’re attacking him, and he doesn’t like it. He’s scared to leave the house because he doesn’t want people feeling sorry for him, but he can’t stay in there forever. Eventually he’ll have to go back to school. And I know you’ve been thinking about re-enrolling him here.”
Zack had. It had seemed like a good idea at the time — putting him back into school with the kids he had grown up with, with the teachers who knew him and would be able to recognise signs of distress. It wasn’t a terrible idea to get him away from the boys he had been fighting with in Mapleton Beach, either.
