Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I tugged her closer. “What? Please, tell me.”
Ida shifted and looked me in the eyes. “But I knew I had you. I wanted to cling to you, Savannah. To be sure you didn’t leave me too.”
My breathing stuttered. Ida was so young when it all happened. Old enough to remember it all but too young that it must have been almost impossible to process her grief.
“I used to sneak into your room at night, just to be sure you were breathing.”
I didn’t know.
“Ida—”
“I held on to the fact that although Poppy was gone, I knew she was in a better place. I could just feel it, in my heart. After all those years in pain. Fighting to live …” She shook her head. “I can’t explain how; I just knew she was watching over us. Whenever I thought of her, I felt a subtle kind of warmth wrap around me that I can’t even describe. At times, in our house, I felt her presence, like she was walking right beside me, sitting on the couch next to me.” She laughed in a self-deprecating way. “It brought me so much comfort. Still does. It probably sounds silly—”
“It doesn’t,” I said reassuringly. In fact, in the beginning, I’d prayed for that too. I had asked Poppy for a sign so many times and nothing had ever come. I’d just wanted to know she was okay. That her life hadn’t truly ended. That she was somewhere better than this world, laughing and loving, maybe reunited with our Mamaw, who she adored so much. That she still loved us and was around us, helping us cope with her irreparable loss.
“But the thing I’ve found hardest since we lost Poppy …” I held my breath, waiting for what she would say. Ida’s shoulders dropped and she whispered, “Was that awful day … I lost you too.”
Whatever had been left of my heart was obliterated, Ida’s words having the effect of a grenade. Ida’s hand became a death grip around mine. “I watched you fade, Sav. I watched you turn so into yourself that you became impenetrable. You built walls around your heart so high that no one could breach them.” Two more tears fell down her face. “Not even me. You locked us all out.” Ida exhaled a long, slow breath. “Just under four years ago, I lost two sisters, and …” Her voice caught and it destroyed me. She cleared her throat and rasped, “I just really, really want you back.”
The pain in her voice made me feel nauseous. Because she was right, wasn’t she? I had pushed everyone out. I’d let my little sister suffer and I’d done nothing to help her. But it wasn’t on purpose. The walls had built themselves without my direction and trapped me deep inside. And I’d let them.
I was still there now, but hearing what it was doing to Ida …
It took me too many minutes to speak, but on a deep breath, I confided, “I don’t know how to come back.” This time Ida wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’ve been trying, Ida, I promise …”
“I know you have.” Ida wrapped her arms around me. The moment she did, my racing heart calmed a touch. “I’m so proud of you for how much you’ve tried, but I need you to go on this trip. Not just for me, and not just for Poppy, but for you.” Ida pulled back and cupped my cheeks. There was so much love and encouragement in her eyes. “You deserve to live, Sav. You are so loved and so special, so smart and beautiful and kind, and you deserve to be happy.” Ida’s throat became clogged again. “That’s all I want for you. Happiness. Pops would want that for you too.”
I stared at my sister and fought against the voice inside my head telling me to resist, that I didn’t need to go. That I was fine. That I just needed more time, more therapy with Rob back at home. Therapy that I had been having for years … that hadn’t worked … because nothing was working …
“Okay,” I said, betraying the fear inside of me, and held on to my sister tighter. Poppy had always been my older sister, the one I went to for everything. But I was Ida’s older sister now. The one she should be able to go to, to confide and trust in. So I had to try. For her, I would try.
A sudden knock on the door startled us. Ida laughed at how hard we jumped, and I found myself smiling too. “Girls, it’s time to go,” our daddy said from the hallway.
Ida ducked her head to meet my lowered gaze. “Are you okay?” I could see the worry in her eyes. The fear that she had said too much, pushed me too hard.