“She’s going to be fine,” Jax said.
The image of my mother and Doctor Connors faded, and sadness seeped into my chest. My mother wasn’t fine. She was dead.
Faint, steady beeping sounded in the distance. A heart monitor—the one sound I would never be able to forget for as long as I lived.
“Try saying that like you actually mean it,” Trent snarled.
“Guys, relax.” Whitney’s tone was calm. “All this tension isn’t going to help her recover.”
Recover from what? What was wrong with me? I wanted to ask, but my voice, like my limbs, wasn’t cooperating.
“If you two don’t cool it, I’m going to personally remove both of you from the room,” Whitney continued.
“Why don’t we go downstairs and get some food?” Wyatt said. “Whitney will keep an eye on Chloe.”
Wyatt was here, too? Wherever here was. There was a lot of shuffling and then silence. Had they all left me? Where did they go?
“Remember that human anatomy class I told you about?” Whitney’s voice was super close, like she was sitting right next to my head. “Well, I actually learned quite a bit from that class, and one thing I’ve never forgotten was that the brain is our strongest muscle. It’s also our most confusing. Studies show people in comas can still dream and hear others talk to them. I really hope that’s true.”
Coma.
My thoughts tripped over that single word. I was in a coma? How? Why? Would I ever wake up? Or would I end up like my mother? Fear strangled me.
“So, if you can hear me, you have to fight this, Chloe. You’re my only friend. I need you.” She sniffled. “And Trent’s driving everyone crazy. If you don’t pull through this…”
“She’s going to pull through this, right?” My voice rose with hysterics, then cracked. “Please tell me she’s going to be okay.”
Doctor Connors was nothing more than a blurry blob in front of me, my tears making it impossible to see anything clearly.
“I’m so sorry, Chloe.” His tone was solemn, and he shook his head. “The probability of your mother waking up from this coma is very slim.”
“No.” I sobbed.
Aunt Beth wrapped her arm around me, tucking me against her side so I wouldn’t collapse right there on the hospital floor. “Can you give us a minute?”
“Of course.” Doctor Connors left the room.
The sound of the door latching made my knees buckle. But Aunt Beth held me tighter, and I sobbed uncontrollably against her shoulder. She stroked my hair, alternating between whispering “shh” and “I’m so sorry.” Neither offered any real comfort.
“You’re pale gray, Chloe. Ashy.” The venom in Jax’s tone startled me. “Know what that means?” His voice was suddenly much too close. “Death.” His breath whispered across my ear. “Don’t you dare die on me.”
I didn’t feel like I was dying. I just felt—nothing, really. The physical pain was gone, and my thoughts were quiet. My dreams weren’t anything I wanted to relive, but they were my typical nightmares.
A large, warm hand wrapped protectively around mine. “Please, Chloe. Come back to us.”
“No,” I said, stomping my foot like a child. “She will come back to us. I know she will.”
“She won’t,” Aunt Beth said as gently as possible. “You heard Doctor Connors. Your mom is brain dead, Chloe. The only thing keeping her alive are those machines.”
“Yeah, well, at least she’s alive.” I crossed my arms and glanced over at my mother’s prone, unmoving body. I didn’t want to believe the doctor. I didn’t want to accept the fact that my mother was as good as dead, that I’d never hear her voice again or see her smile.
“This isn’t what she wants, honey.” Aunt Beth rubbed my arm. “I won’t give the order until I know you’re okay with it, but she can’t stay like this forever.”
“How long is she going to be like this?” Trent asked. Exhaustion poured from every word.
“I don’t know.” It was the same unfamiliar female voice from before. “She suffered a trauma. Her brain needs time to heal. It could be days or months. There’s really no definitive way to tell.”
“It’s already been four days,” Trent said. Even though he didn’t raise his voice, I could still detect the bitter anger lacing his tone.
“Just keep talking to her. Maybe if she hears your voice, she’ll come around,” the woman said.
A second later, I could feel Trent near me, and any lingering fears I had vanished. He always had that effect on me.
“Chloe, honey. I need you to come back to me, okay? I’m not ready to live without you, not when I just got you back.” He clutched my hand, and hair tickled my knuckles. “I’ll never be ready to live without you, but I’m really not ready right now. You’re too young. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
Something wet landed on the back of my hand. Was Trent crying?
“I love you so much,” he said. “Please, I’m begging you. Don’t let my eternity of heartbreak start now. I can’t say goodbye to you. I can’t.”
Tears streamed down my face as I stood next to Aunt Beth and looked down on my mother. Her skin was pale, her lips dry and cracked, and her hair dull. She wasn’t the same vibrant woman who’d been my best friend. She was no longer my mother. Not really.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped my cheeks. “Do it.” I forced the words past my lips and nodded. “I’m ready to say goodbye.”
The sound of the heart monitor flatlining blared through the room, echoing like a bullhorn.
“Chloe!” Trent shouted my name. “Chloe!” He shook my shoulders.
I drifted into oblivion.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT:
Prognosis
MY EYELIDS FLUTTERED OPEN, AND THEN I quickly snapped them shut. Why was it so bright in the room? I lifted my arm, intent on shielding my eyes. Something stuck out from the back of my hand. A needle?
I attempted to push myself into a sitting position. Every muscle in my body protested, and my arms buckled, sending me
