Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry. You’ve only been here for about an hour,” the nurse said with a light laugh.
Oh, thank goodness. I released a relieved breath. I already had to pitch this story to my boss like my life depended on it for it to even be approved, and missing a whole day of work right off the bat wouldn’t be a very good look for me.
“Is my phone in here?” I asked her as I glanced around, figuring there were still messages and missed calls to return.
The nurse nodded and walked over to a small table that had a plastic bag full of my clothes and belongings. She carried it over to me.
“I’ll have the doctor come by soon to check on you one more time. After that, you should be discharged,” she told me.
“Perfect. Thank you,” I said before digging around in the bag to pull out my phone. As expected, I had a few missed notifications from my boss. With a grimace, I quickly hit his name in my call log to call him back.
After a few rings, there was a crackle before Zachary Fields’ voice filled my ear.
“Zoe! You went MIA on me,” he exclaimed.
“I know. I’m sorry. Literally, a few hours after I got into town, there was a house fire, and I rushed to get on scene,” I explained as I shifted to sit up straighter. Pain struck the back of my left shoulder and my ribs, making me wince. I must’ve hit the ground hard when I passed out.
“Wow. Talk about meant to be, right? See anything suspicious? Creepy dude in a hoodie? Signs of intent?” Zachary replied with eager energy in his tone. He was more than a decade older than me, but he had the energetic nature of someone in their twenties.
Oh, damn it. I could barely recall a thing. When I stood in front of that burning house, the woman’s screams of terror ringing in my ears, I wasn’t mentally there on the scene. I was stuck three years ago in the past staring tear-eyed at the devastating scene of my mom’s car crushed in on her side. And it was my screams I could hear.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. No, no! I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t think about my mom and her warm, dazzling demeanor that reminded me of a sunny summer day. I couldn’t think about how she hugged me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe when I won a writing contest in high school. And I especially couldn’t think about my dad crying over her closed casket because she was too bruised and broken to be viewed at her own funeral.
Emptiness filled my chest, my lungs aching from a lack of air. I put my phone on mute and sucked in a weak breath, my next exhale coming out shakily.
“Stop it,” I breathed out, chastising myself as I had done hundreds of times before when the thought of her threatened to stop my heart.
Right now, I wasn’t Zoe, the devastated girl who lost her mother to an unsolved hit-and-run that had killed her instantly. I was Zoe, the journalist who did everything she could to fight her way through the pain of her past. I couldn’t be someone different right now. Not here.
“I got there midway through, so I missed the start. I’ll be quicker next time, though,” I told him once I’d unmuted myself and caught my breath. I didn’t want to tell him about the whole passing out thing because he wouldn’t believe that I was cut out for this story.
“I need you to be on this, Zoe. You said you could do more over there than here, so I’m relying on you to bring back something good,” Zachary replied.
“I’ll bring back the best story I’ve ever written,” I promised him, forcing my voice to strengthen. I couldn’t risk him doubting me, and I had to be stronger. I just had to be.
“That’s what I want to hear! I’ll let you get back to it,” Zachary cheered, hanging up before I could even say goodbye.
I needed to get going soon. Where was the doctor? I impatiently shifted in bed, ready to get out of here and hit the ground running. It had taken me years to convince myself to come back here. Now that I was here, I was going to make the most of my time and write an incredible story that my mom would’ve been proud of.
Because if I was honest with myself, I wasn’t strong enough to grieve again.
When I heard approaching footsteps, my head snapped toward the door, anticipation eating away at me. A second later, there was a knock, and relief flooded through me. Finally.
But the doctor didn’t step inside. Not that I knew what he looked like, but I fully remembered the face of the man who just walked into my room. The face of a man who I thought I wouldn’t ever see again.