Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Devorah rinsed, shut the water off, and got out. She wrapped herself in a towel and went into her bedroom, dressing in a tank top and shorts. Before she got into bed, she towel-dried her hair and doused herself with lotion.
She turned on the bedside lamp and crawled under her covers. It had been over a month since she’d looked at any videos, and tonight, she felt brave enough to do so. Devorah lowered the volume and opened the app.
Devorah watched five videos before her anxiety spiked. She closed the app, not wanting to come across anything having to do with her humiliation, Chad’s affair, or even a glimpse of what Ester was up to. Devy wanted to move on and get past everything, but that didn’t mean she had to watch it play out on her phone.
She set her phone down on the charger and reached for the light switch. Her hand stilled when she heard a loud thump and then something crash into the floor downstairs. Quietly, she got out of bed, tiptoed across the floor, and opened her door a smidge. She listened for footsteps.
Nothing.
Opening the door farther, she walked as deftly as possible, avoiding the squeaky floorboards. She and Colt had long learned which boards would alert Crow downstairs. At the top of the stairs, she peered down and saw the hall light was on.
Had she left it on?
The house was silent except for the ticking grandfather clock in the living room. Devy descended the stairs, against her better judgment.
“Dad?” she called out when she came to the second-to-last stair, figuring if she needed to retreat, she could. She heard nothing.
“Crow?” she yelled louder. If he had left, wouldn’t he have said something or at least texted her?
Devy finally took the last two steps and turned toward the kitchen. Cordelia ran past her and started barking wildly. She saw his foot and part of his leg sticking out from behind the counter, a place it shouldn’t be. Rushing into the kitchen, she dropped to her knees and shook her father.
“Crow?” She then said his name louder and continued jostling his shoulders. “Oh God. Daddy, wake up. Please don’t do this to me.”
Devorah held her ear to his heart and heard nothing. She felt for a pulse, and again, nothing. Tears streamed down her cheeks and onto her father, who lay still.
She ran to the phone and fumbled with the handle. Her fingers shook as she pressed 911. She went back to her dad and knelt beside him.
“Emergency services, what’s your emergency?”
“I need help. It’s my dad. I think he had a heart attack.”
“Have you started chest compressions?”
“No, but I am now.” She cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder and pushed on his chest, the way she’d learned from a cardiopulmonary resuscitation class she had taken years ago. She, like many, thought she’d never use CPR again and had never gone back to recertify.
The operator asked other questions and assured Devorah that an ambulance was on the way. When she saw the lights pull into the driveway, she dropped the phone and ran to the door.
“He’s in the kitchen, straight ahead.”
From there, she stood and watched men rip open her father’s shirt, then push and press things to his chest. Tears continued to stream as the men pressed paddles to his chest, let them recharge, and then did it again. And again.
And again.
Maren came down the stairs, and before she could see what the medics were doing to her grandfather, Devorah wrapped her daughter in her arms and held her head against her shoulder.
“You don’t want to see this,” she whispered. “Just let me hold you.”
Maren cried. She may have been nine, but she knew.
Behind them, Cordelia whimpered. She’d started off as Colt’s dog, but she’d quickly turned into Crow’s.
“Ma’am,” a medic said as he came to her. “We’re sorry . . .” Devorah heard nothing after those words. She’d lost her father, a man she’d had a troubled relationship with until recently. Things were better between them, more loving, nurturing. Crow had been happy she and Maren were there, and he’d wanted them to stay.
Devorah continued to hold Maren in her arms as they wheeled Crow out of the house, a white sheet covering his body. The medic left the front door open, and so did Devy. She didn’t move or get up to close it until the lights had disappeared.
Now what was she going to do?
“Mommy?” Maren’s voice was soft, scared.
“Yeah?”
“Is Grandpa going to be okay?”
More tears streamed down her cheeks, and she choked on a sob. She shook her head and somehow found her voice enough to tell her daughter, “No.”
Footsteps thundered on the porch steps, and Colt shot through the open door. “What happened?”
Devorah looked at her brother, and she could tell by the way his face dropped that he knew. She wouldn’t have to say the words. She wasn’t sure she even could.