âLily.â
A light.
âLily, can you hear me?â
I surface slowly. Little flutter kicks propelling me up, up, up. Dad leans over me. His face fills my vision.
âDad,â I say. âWhat happened?â
He tells me Iâm in the hospital. Iâm hooked up to antibiotics. The doctors are helping me now. Iâm going to be okay.
My family sits around my bed. Dad. Staci. Alice. Margot.
They tell me they love me.
I tell them Iâm sorry.
I didnât mean to hurt anyone.
âWhy didnât you teââ Dad starts, but cuts himself off. He shakes his head. âIt doesnât matter. What matters is that youâre here. And weâre here. And weâre going to get you help.â
I nod. Iâm in a hospital gown. Dad has probably seen all my scabs. Probably knows how deep my wounds run.
âI might be beyond help,â I whisper.
Dad puts his hand on my shoulder. The weight of it grounds me.
âWeâll figure it out,â he says. âWeâre a family. Thatâs what we do.â
Alice touches my foot at the bottom of the bed as Margot squishes her way next to me through the maze of tubes pumping into my arm. She wraps her arms around me. Dad keeps one hand on me at all times, like heâs reassuring himself Iâm real. Iâm here.
And I am.
Iâm here, breathing in and out.
Listening to the rhythm of the heart monitor beeping through the room.
Even though my brain is mushy and my body aches and I have no idea what will happen next, Iâm here.
And so are they.
And their light chases away the darkness.