…He was dying… right?
All I could hear right now was him violently coughing into his Grandfather’s sink, blood spilling out. It made my stomach icky just thinking about it.
“Emilie? Is that you…?” I feel a small pressure on my shoulder, then when I look at where it was placed, I see a hand. I look up, to see who it is, and--
As soon as I looked up, I saw her face change--one second her face was sad, and the next, it was scared--not for her, but for me. She must’ve seen the tears pouring down my face, and my red, puffy eyes.
She gasped quietly, and whispered only loud enough for me to hear, “Oh, Em… Are you alright, sweetheart?”
I shook my head slowly, and felt the tears on my eyelashes fall off and onto my oversized sweatshirt.
After that, I didn't even know what happened.
Her arms wrapped tightly around me, her tears making the back of my neck wet. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Em.”
I sobbed into her chest and she held me, keeping me and my bones taped together with her magical arms of string and rope and tape, and whispered, “It's ok, Emilie, he’s going to be okay, I promise. He will make it. I will be here for you, to see him for you, and to hold you. Just know that, Emilie. Know it.”
And when I inhaled that first breath after she spoke, I broke.
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