Until Lexi

We all sigh a breath of relief when we make it outside.

Once we’ve got the three of them secured in the back seat, Riley hands me my keys.

“You don’t want to drive?”

“I’m still a little shaky,” she admits. “I was okay this morning when I was alone, but I’d rather not take any chances.”

Her eyes flit to the window of the car. My gaze follows, and I notice how stiffly the three are sitting in the back seat. Nodding, I take the keys and open the passenger door for her. When I climb in on the opposite side, Riley asks for my phone. She fusses with it for a minute before handing it back.

“Take this route,” she tells me.

I briefly notice it’s similar to the route I took to the hospital, one that avoids the highway.

Good call, Riley.

Dropping my phone in the cup holder, I buckle my seatbelt and readjust my mirrors.

“Everyone ready?” I ask. I get nothing but murmurs of assent, so I put the car in gear and pull away from the curb slowly. “Then let’s get you ladies home.”

The drive is quiet, but thankfully doesn’t seem to drag on.

Mercy falls asleep on the way, the poor girl physically and mentally exhausted from everything she’s been through. Penny opens the door, moving slowly to get her out, but I gently nudge her out of the way. “Let me,” I insist.

“Thanks, Jake.”

She doesn’t wake when I lift her out of the car and cradle her protectively against my chest. I follow the girls up to the house and carry Mercy to her room once we’re inside. Poor baby doesn’t even stir when I lay her in bed, and I find myself hesitating to leave her alone. I shouldn’t have worried, Penny’s right behind me as I turn toward the door.

“She’ll be okay,” she tells me, and I realize for the first time how worried I’ve been about Mercy. About all of them. “We all will.”

For the first time since my parents died, I feel like I’ve found somewhere I can belong.

I might not know these girls well yet, and I may not have spent a ton of time with them so far, but it doesn’t matter. Every single one of them have carved a big space for themselves in my heart. Lexi’s family already feels like my own.

“I know,” I say, putting my arm around her shoulder.

I have no doubts that they’ll get through this.

They’ve proven time and time again that they can survive anything life throws at them. I haven’t heard all their stories yet, but I know they’ve all been through something that’s challenged them, tested their strength, and changed the way they view the world.

But they survived.

This is no different.

Something tells me this isn’t the first time any of them has lost someone close to them, so they know that the pain of losing a loved one never truly goes away, but it sometimes lessens as time passes. They have each other to help them through the worst days, and I’ll be here for them too, for as long as they’ll have me.

Irrationally, part of me feels responsible for their suffering.

I traveled to Tennessee with good intentions, hoping to unite a family.

It guts me that instead, my presence set off a series of unfortunate events that ended in tragedy, leaving a gaping hole in their lives.