at her with concern. Apparently, she didn’t want that either
because her expression darkened. She could feel the tension in
the room growing thicker and thicker, and for once, she kept
everything she wanted to say trapped inside and just listened.
“Why her and
not me?” Giana exhaled brokenly. She turned
her eyes to the bookcase. It would be wonderful if those books
contained the answers to all the toughest questions, but this
kind of thing didn’t have an answer. There was nothing written
that could really make a person understand.
“I think that all the time. About my mom and dad. Why did
my mom have to be there at exactly that time? The wrong
time. Why did my dad have to get sick? I don’t mean why not
someone else. I’ve stopped asking why. Why is the one word
that will drive you crazy.”
Giana’s nostrils flared on her next inhale. Her lips trembled.
It looked like she was going to break down, but she stopped
herself, composed herself, and became stoic again. “I didn’t
mean that in a survivor’s guilt kind of way. I just mean was it
dumb luck that made her sit where she did? Would I have
survived it if it was me in her place because I was older and
bigger? No. No, I don’t think so. The SUV wrapped around a
tree, and it hit right there. Right where she was. It missed my
dad and it missed the back of the SUV too. It just hit there.
Right there. It folded around my sister like it wanted to
embrace her.” On her next breath, she reclaimed her anger.
“But they didn’t publish any of that. And now you know.”
“Yes.” I won’t tell anyone. I would never tell anyone. I
understand. Far, far too well.
“Guess I’ll have to throw that in the NDA I’m going to get