In their gentle, trusting touch, Liam felt it return, the faith he needed.
“Let’s pray. Rosa, will you do the honors?”
Across the table, she was watching him. He could tell that she understood. She nodded briefly and closed her eyes, bowing her head. Her lovely, lyrical voice was like music in the silence. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for the four of us at this table, for the love we share and the strength we find in each other. We thank You for Mikaela’s continued life, still as it may be. We know You are watching out for her and protecting her and blessing her with Your presence in the darkness of her sleep. Once again, we offer You our humble prayers that she will soon come back into the loving arms of her family. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, Amen. ”
Liam opened his eyes and looked at his children. “I love you,” he said softly.
It was like that these days. The best of times were quiet moments like this one, tucked into the corners of what passed for everyday life. They were learning, each of them, to notice the things they’d once taken for granted.
And to be thankful for the life that was left.
Part Four
Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forward. —SØREN KIERKEGAARD
Chapter Eighteen
The water is now a beautiful aqua blue. She is at the bottom of a swimming pool, staring up. Her limbs feel heavy; the water resists her movements, but she has learned that if she really concentrates, focuses all of her will, she can lift her fingers and wiggle her toes. She knows that at some time, long ago, this would have been next to nothing, something the tiniest newborn can do, but to her, in this pool of endless clear blue water, it is everything.
She is floating up through the water, rising, rising, her body weightless. The water moves easily aside for her and buoys her.
As she reaches the surface, the water slides away from her face. She gasps, breathing in the sweet, pine-scented air, then sucking greedily. Her fingers twitch, and she is reaching for something … the shadow in front of her.
She opens her eyes and immediately cries out. The light is so bright, she cannot stand the brightness.
“She opened her eyes. Jesus Christ, Mike … we’re here …”
She takes a deep, calming breath and opens her eyes again. At first the world is a confusing, jarring mixture of white-hot light and black, slanting shadows. She can feel something warm against her palm. She tries to grasp hold, but her fingers are weighted down again, unresponsive.
She blinks; it takes all her concentration to turn her head. Something stops the movement, a swell of cottony fabric.
The shadows spin in front of her, waving like mirages on a desert highway, then, slowly, slowly, they begin to take shape.
>
There are three people around her, men.
Julian. She sees him, sees those beloved blue eyes staring down at her. She reaches out for him, meaning to touch his face in the gentlest caress, but her control is shot, and she slaps him hard across the cheek. She means to laugh at the surprise on his face, but instead she bursts into tears. More water, sliding down her cheeks now, tasting salty, like the black sea that held her captive, and she is afraid. She can’t stop crying.
She tries to talk. It hurts, burns. Still, she pushes a sound up her cracked, broken throat, and when the word comes out, mangled and unfamiliar, she weeps even harder. “Ju … li … an. ”
“I’m here, baby,” he says in the voice she remembers so well, the voice that seems connected to the tender cords in her heart.
“Kayla, baby, are you there? Squeeze my hand. ”
She opens her eyes again, blinking slowly.
It seemed to take her hours to focus, but when she did, she saw him standing beside her, staring down at her, and she felt a rush of joy. “You came … back. ”
Another man leaned toward her. On the front of his white coat, it read Dr. Liam Campbell. “Hi, Mike. ”
She frowned and tried to turn her head to look for Mike. It tired her and she gave up. She tried to remember how she got here, but there was nothing. She remembered every moment of her life up to when she said good-bye to Julian. After that, there was a complete and utter blankness. It terrified her. “I … don’t … where …”
“You’re in the hospital,” someone says.
“Juliana,” she croaked. “Where’s my baby?”
“Baby?” Julian turned to the other man. “What the hell is going on?”