“You okay?”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. No, I wasn’t okay. My brother was in a coma. A medically induced coma, my father reminded me constantly. He was going to be okay. Mom had all of the scientific facts to back it all up, too. They’d flown in a doctor from Cleveland to treat him and nurses who worked strictly with coma-induced patients, to monitor him. Still. A coma meant I couldn’t speak to him, and he was my go-to person. Now, I was in my parent’s backyard, sitting on a chaise lounge, as the house filled with people from everywhere who had just attended the mass mom set up for him. Prayers for Lincoln’s full recovery, was what she’d asked for. Of course, I prayed too, but seriously? My brother was in a coma. They needed to get him out of it and let him heal while he was awake.
“Your parents said you may not go back to classes this semester,” he continued. Travis said I talked a lot, but he never seemed to mind voicing his opinions about my life. “Maybe you should come back to Duke. Finish school there.”
I didn’t respond.
“Mae. You need to talk to someone,” he said.
I continued to stare at the pool, where Lincoln and I took swimming lessons when we were kids. Where we hosted pool parties every year for his birthday, since it was at the end of May. Where he jumped in from the second-floor balcony of the house during a party we had while our parents were out of town and broke his nose. I felt myself smile at that memory. Idiot Lincoln. And then just as quickly, I was crying again. God, I was so tired of crying. I wiped my face quickly and looked around at everyone here. Most were our neighbors, parent’s friends, Lincoln’s friends from high school. I spotted Lana’s parents, talking to dad. They all looked somber.
“Who are those guys?” Travis asked.
I still didn’t talk, but I did glance at him and then followed his line of vision. I hadn’t seen them before, but Logan and the three guys he was always with were standing on the other side of the lawn. They were all wearing black suits, white shirts, and black ties. I must have missed them earlier. I knew I definitely hadn’t greeted them. I’d remember them. I’d definitely remember Logan. As if reading my thoughts, he looked over at me. I couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, but I could swear I saw sympathy in his eyes. It was something I normally didn’t want from anyone, but for some reason, he made his look genuine. Maybe because Logan didn’t strike me as the kind of person who gave handouts. He seemed like the kind of person who said what he meant and meant what he said. I could appreciate that.
“Are you hungry?” Travis asked.
I shrugged. I was starving, I just wasn’t sure I could keep any food down.
“I’m hungry.” He stood up. “I’ll go get us food. Stay right here.”
He walked away. I stayed there, staring out at the pool again. It wasn’t hot enough to go in there, but the only thing I could manage to think about was jumping in there, dress, heels, and all. Maybe I’d get hypothermia and end up in the hospital next to my brother. Maybe I could wait there until he woke up. My phone buzzed in my lap.
Unknown Caller: She’s out there. She’s still out there.
Dread crept into my belly as I stared at the ominous text.
Me: Who? Who is this?
No response.
I dialed the number and got a loud dial tone. “The number you are calling has been disconnected.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear slowly and pressed the red button to end the call. They’d just texted me. She’s out there. She’s still out there. Who? Who was still out there? Lana? I glanced over at her parents. Her mother was now crying in my father’s arms as he patted her back softly. They’d known each other a long time, her father being dad’s accountant and all, but I never knew they were this close. Maybe it was the grief. Grief knew how to bring people together.
Chapter 7
“You’re sure you’re going to be okay?” Celia asked for the fifth time.
“Positive. It’s not like you were much of a roommate when you lived here anyway.”
“I paid rent though.” She stuck her tongue out. “Seriously, if you need anything, please call me. It doesn’t matter the time. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
“I’m okay. I promise.”
Word traveled fast, even here. Then again, mom had requested a prayer chain in the school paper for Lincoln, which was also tweeted out and put on the online portal, so every time you logged on to look at school related things, you had the prayer chain for Lincoln’s recovery and Lana’s appearance. It must have been one of the many things our parents discussed that day at the house.
“We’re having a party tonight at the house,” Celia said. “I know you probably don’t feel like partying at all, but if you want to forget about everything for a night, you should come.”
“Maybe.”
“I left those two boxes in the closet,” she said as she walked out of the apartment. “I figured you didn’t want them in the middle of the living room.”
“What boxes?”
“The ones you had sent here. The ones with your brother’s name on them.”
“Oh. Yeah. Cool. Thanks for putting them away.” I held the door for her and watched as she walked toward the elevator. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“Please come. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
I smiled and walked back into the apartment, shutting the door and locking it before heading to the guest bedroom closet. I pulled out the two boxes. They had my brother’s name on the top and sides. A part of me wondered if I should just leave them alone. They were private. I wouldn’t want someone rummaging through my stuff. But he was in a coma. He said he hadn’t tried to kill himself. With that thought, I tore the tape off the first box and started going through it. Hockey equipment, a jersey, two jerseys, jockey straps. I cringed. Gross. I’d brought his computer with me from his room, but I hadn’t found anything in there worthwhile. So far, there was nothing in this box that was worthwhile either. Who’d brought it though? Celia said it had been in the living room. I’d been gone a week, and I wasn’t sure how often she’d come around, but for the boxes to be inside the apartment when only the two of us had a key? That was odd. I looked at the time. I was going to be late for my first assignment, since I’d missed last week’s. I stood from the floor, grabbed my bag, camera, and left.
On my walk to campus, I started scrolling Lincoln’s Instagram. He wasn’t much of a poster to begin with, but in recent months, he hadn’t posted anything at all. My memories kept flashing back to the hospital, to seeing him with that tube down his throat, not letting him speak, and then the seizure. I shivered. Then I remembered the Morse code. I exited Instagram and opened my notepad. There were a lot of dots and a lot of lines. Shit. How could I have forgotten about this? I needed to decipher it immediately.
When I got to campus, I looked everywhere for Ella Valentine, but never found her. I did find a guy holding a recorder to a girl’s face and assumed he must work for the paper as well. I just hoped it was the same paper I was with. I waited for him to finish talking to the girl he was interviewing.