“Sid,” I whispered pathetically, pressing my forehead to the cold tiled wall beside the pay phone.
“Max?”
He was immediately alarmed, instantly awake. I knew he’d been sleeping. It was late; it had to be.
“God, Sid,” I whispered again, a pitiful whimper escaping my lips.
Through the phone, I listened to my sister’s sleepy, mumbled tone say something I couldn’t hear, and he replied, “It’s Max.”
“What? What’s going on?” Grace asked, suddenly alert.
“Serg, what’s wrong?” my best friend asked, already panicked. “Is it Laura? Is the baby okay?”
The sound that came from me was strangled, a half cry, half groan. “No,” I replied, my face crumpling as another wave of tears began to fall from my eyes. “They’re … they’re not okay. Oh God, Sid. God, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to fucking do.”
He was silent for a moment, so fucking quiet, before asking slowly, “Max, what … what are you saying? Where are you?”
It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. It hurt to live in this nightmare I’d somehow found myself in. But I managed to utter a strangled, “The police station.”
“You’re …” He took a deep breath. “You’re with the cops? You’re at the police station? Where? Near your house?”
I nodded as if he could see, the tears leaking from my eyes uncontrollably. “I-I think so.”
In the background, my sister panicked as Sid bustled, moving around.
“All right, Serg. Don’t move, okay? Don’t go anywhere. I’m on my way, all right?”
“Okay,” I whispered, wondering if I could wait that long before I collapsed.
“Hang in there, buddy,” he said as if reading my mind. “I’m on my way.”
***
Sid didn’t think it was a good idea for me to be alone, so when he picked me up from the police station, he immediately turned around and drove back to his place.
It wasn’t until we were ten minutes away from the station that he finally said, “I … I don’t know how to ask this, Serg, or if you even want me to ask, but you know I have to.”
“So, ask,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
“What happened, man? Where’s Laura?”
I had only just gotten ahold of my emotions, but now, at the mention of her name, I felt that crushing weight pressing once again on my shoulders, and I heaved a sigh.
“She’s gone,” I said.
Sid held the wheel with two hands, his grip tight. “Gone,” he muttered, letting the word settle against his tongue, as if he needed to taste it to know its true meaning. “What do you mean, she’sgone?”
“God, Sid, she’s fuckingdead.”
I looked at him now, seething. Instantly enraged. Ready to beat the living shit out of him for no other reason than he was, right now, on his way home to his wife and his baby. Both alive and healthy—and thank God for that!
But, oh my fucking Lord, why did this happen to me? Why did this happen tothem?
“Fuck!” I screamed, the word scraping through my stinging throat as I punched the dashboard repeatedly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
I slumped back into the seat, struggling to catch my breath. My chest heaved with every expansion of my lungs. Everything ached. Simply being alive hurt. I fell sideways against the door, smacking my forehead against the window. The coldness of the glass was both soothing and triggering as I remembered Laura’s frozen fingers and face, and an agony-fueled wail broke through my lips as every wall I’d constructed collapsed in a heap of dust and rubble around my trembling soul.
Sid remained quiet as he reached out, grasping my shoulder in his hand. He held tight as he drove, shedding silent tears, and I cried. I knew he’d want to know what had happened. I knew they’d all have questions, and I’d answer them. But right now, I just needed for him to let me cry.
