Everything else has faded away for the moment, and I turn away and start moving toward the garage door.
Rose follows me, and I don’t have the presence of mind to stop her.
I don’t even know if I want to.
I know I can’t do this alone. All these years, all this time, I’ve kept everything bottled deep inside. I’ve let the anger out, the despair out, in the deals I’ve done for my family. I’ve poured my energy into keeping the club alive.
I never stopped, never allowed myself to think about this moment. Now that it’s here, it’s blinding me.
The road seems to unravel endlessly before me as I drive. I can feel my stomach churning, cramping, tying itself into knots.
Will we be too late? Will she already be gone when we get there?
Lachlan, Finn, and Connor have all beaten us to the hospital when we arrive, and they turn to look as Rose and I stride toward them.
The painful ache in my chest only intensifies as my gaze scans over the three of them. I look at Finn and see the sheer terror in his eyes, the desperation. He looks like a kid again, lost and panicked.
And Connor isn’t much better. I know the pain in his eyes is real. He might have been adopted, but he’s always loved our parents with all his heart and soul. He feels this as much as we do.
Lachlan is the worst. His collected posture and calm expression is gone. He’s exposed, raw. The weight of everything that’s happened over the past several years, the exhaustion of it all, is etched across his face. This has been a long time coming. Everything has been leading us to this moment, as terrible as it is.
No one speaks. Rose is silent, almost invisible, following us into the hospital.
Dr. Andrews is waiting outside my mother’s room. He has his hands in the pockets of his coat, his head bent as he listens to a nurse murmur into his ear. She sees us first, her eyes flickering over our group with something like pity.
I hate that look.
Part of me is terrified that it’s too late. Another part of me hopes it is, that I can rage and shout later about how I wasn’t there. I feel cowardly for even that small part of me.
I know it’s normal. I know it’s human to want to turn away from loss like this, especially after we suffered through losing our father.
But I have to be here. I have to see my mother one last time, even if it will be the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.
“What happened?” Lachlan asks the doctor, his voice low and raspy. It’s as close to breaking as I’ve ever heard him.
“This episode was more severe than the last,” Dr. Andrews says. “We managed to handle it, but…”
“How much worse was it?” Finn demands. “How bad is she?”
Dr. Andrews runs a hand over his chin. “Worse. We’re having a harder time keeping Siobhan stabilized. It’s almost impossible at this point to guess—”
“Will this keep happening?” I ask, interrupting.
I’m not sure how many times we can survive doing this. Each time feels like the end. It never gets easier. It’s like every time we come, we come to mourn and then end up hoping.
The hope is the cruelest part.
“Yes.” Dr. Andrews nods once. “It’ll get worse.”
“How the fuck does it get worse than this?” Connor mutters.
“Listen,” Dr. Andrews says, taking a breath. “I believe we’ve passed the point of no return. I have to ask. Do you want to continue life support and resuscitation procedures?”
Somehow, I expected him to say it kindly. I’m not sure why.
From the beginning, Lachlan and I demanded the truth. Stark, unfiltered reality. We wanted to make our choices based on what was possible.
It seems like this is no longer possible.
