Unexpected Fall (Unexpected Arrivals 3)

Dr. Travis looks at each of us, stopping when he gets to Dawn. “Mr. and Mrs. Miller were involved in an auto accident. From what we were able to gather from witnesses, the car started swerving and the driver, Mr. Miller, lost control. We later learned that their daughter, who was in the car with them, was trying to exit the car while moving. It’s the assumption that’s when Mr. Miller lost control of the vehicle. Apparently, there was some sort of disagreement. We couldn’t get much from her, just that she didn’t want to go and was trying to get out of the car. When the police arrived to speak with her, she was gone.”

“Destiny?” I ask, speaking for the first time.

Dr. Travis nods. “She said she had a sister, but no one else.”

“Dawn,” I say, my voice cracking. “This is her sister.” I motion to Dawn, who is huddled against my chest. Her tears have reappeared and her soft sobs are ripping my heart to shreds. “Was her sister, was Destiny hurt?”

“No. A few scrapes and bruises, but nothing threatening. She was under the influence, of what we’re not sure. We couldn’t get her to settle down long enough to draw labs. She kept muttering that she was sorry and she didn’t want to go. That’s all we know at this point.”

“Can I see them?” Dawn’s small voice surprises us all.

I want to tell her no, that she can’t see them. I don’t want her to go through that pain and remember them that way. I want to shield her from all of this. However, I know that I can’t do that. I can’t take away this final goodbye, her closure. No matter how bad I want to protect her, I just can’t with this. Instead, I’m going to be her shoulder, stand tall, and be here for the fall.

“Dawn, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Kendall says gently. “We’re nurses. We know the outcome,” she adds. “We know what that looks like.”

“I have to agree,” Dr. Travis says. “I highly advise against it, but of course it’s your decision.”

“Is this how you want to remember them?” Kendall asks.

“I just… need something.” Her hazel eyes look up at me, pleading for answers that I don’t have.

“Dr. Travis, is it possible to keep the bodies covered? Maybe let her hold their hands, give her the closure she needs without seeing them fully?” Kendall questions.

“We can do that. Give me a little time to have the nursing staff do what they need to do. You all are welcome to stay here in this room until they come and get you,” he tells us before focusing his attention on Dawn. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he says kindly, before leaving the room.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” I hold her close.

“We’re here,” Kendall says, reaching out and taking her hand.

“Name it,” Seth says and steps closer.

Her bloodshot eyes and tearstained cheeks are ripping apart my soul. She looks up at me, and I would give anything to take her pain away. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” I say, with more confidence than I feel. This entire situation is fucked.

“We’ll all be there,” Seth assures her.

I give him a nod, letting him know I appreciate it. Hell, I’m not sure I can handle seeing them, being there with them like that. The more support I have, the more I can support her. At least I hope that’s how it turns out.

“Are you sure about this, Dawn?” Kendall asks.

“No.”

“We don’t have to go in,” I tell her.

“I know, but I feel like I need to see them. I need to know that this isn’t just a bad dream.”

“At any point, if you change your mind, you tell me. I’ll get you out of there,” I say, hugging her a little tighter.

“Thank you. Thank you, guys, for being here and bringing me. I couldn’t do this alone.”

“Of course,” Seth and Kendall say at the same time. I don’t speak. Instead, I place a kiss on the top of her head just as a nurse enters the room.

“Ms. Miller, if you’ll come with me,” she says, motioning for Dawn to follow her.

“We’re coming with her,” I state. My voice leaves no room for negotiation. She hesitates slightly but then nods her agreement. I’m glad she’s seeing things my way. No way would I let my girl do this alone.

We follow her out of the room and down the long hallway to the last door on the right. Behind that door, what we’re about to see, what she’s about to see is going to alter her life forever.

“Stop,” Kendall says as the nurse pushes open the door. “Dawn, let me go in first. Let me just… make sure it’s all… just let me go in first,” she says again.

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” Dawn tells her.

“I’ll go with her.” Seth steps up. “Kendall and I will go in, and then if she thinks it’s okay, we’ll come back to get you.”

“I need to see them,” Dawn says meekly.

“I know you do, but I don’t want your last memory of them to be like this. We don’t know the details of their injuries,” she replies.

I’m kicking myself for not asking that, but then again, does it really matter? They’re gone, and like Kendall said, she doesn’t need to have that on her mind as her final memory of them.

“Okay.” Again, her one-word reply is all we’re getting.

Seth and Kendall disappear behind the door, leaving us out in the hallway on our own. I wrap my other arm around her waist and just hold her. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper softly.

“I can’t believe this is real. I keep hoping that it’s a bad dream or something.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m not good at this shit. I don’t know what to tell her to make it better. I don’t know what to do to take her pain away. I don’t even try. I just hold her tightly against me, being her strength. I know I can at least give her that.

When the door opens, Kendall is standing there with tears flowing down her cheeks. “You sure about this?” she asks.

“I need to” is Dawn’s answer.

Kendall nods and holds out her hand. Dawn steps away from me, and I want to protest and tell her she can’t do that. She can’t go into that room without my arms around her so she knows I’m here for her. However, I don’t. I keep my mouth shut and follow in behind her.

The room has that antiseptic smell, the one that all hospitals seem to have. It’s dimly lit, and in the center are two beds, both draped with white sheets, outlining bodies. I swallow hard, fighting against the lump in the back of my throat.

“I pulled their hands out for you,” Kendall says, wiping her tears. Not that it does any good, more fall and coat her cheeks instantly.

My eyes follow Dawn as she goes to the right side of the first bed and peers down at the hand. “He got her these last year for their anniversary,” she mumbles. The room is eerily quiet, so we hear her loud and clear. “She was so excited. Her original was so small, barely a chip of

a diamond.” Her voice cracks. “Dad said that after thirty years with him, she’d earned it.” A sob racks from her chest, and I rush to her.

When I reach her, I place my hand on the small of her back and she leans into me. “I’m right here,” I whisper.

“Their anniversary is next month,” she says solemnly.

I watch as her index finger reaches out and trails down the back of her mother’s hand until she reaches the rings. She wobbles a little on her feet, but I’m here to catch her, wrapping my arm around her.

“You can take them,” the nurse tells her.

Her hand shakes as she picks up her mother’s. A sob racks from her chest and I have to fight my own tears. This shit is heavy, but watching my pixie go through this is killing me.

“I can do it.” Kendall steps up next to us. Gently, she takes Dawn’s mother’s hand and slides her rings from her fingers. “I’ll keep them with me,” she tells Dawn.

My girl nods, turning her head into my chest. She grips my shirt and I wrap my arms around her. I hold her tightly and kiss the top of her head. I don’t have words. I can’t tell her this is going to be okay. I can’t tell her that it will get better in time. Sure, those things are true, but right now she’s too raw. This moment is too painful.

Steeling her resolve, she lifts her head from my chest and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. She takes a step away from me, and my instinct is to follow her, so I do. Step for step, I’m behind her as she makes her way between the two beds and stares down at her father’s hand. “He cut his hand building Destiny and me a treehouse.” Her hand runs over a jagged scar on the back of his hand. “I can’t remember how he did it. I remember him coming into the house with his T-shirt wrapped around it and Mom telling us to leave the room.”

She looks up at me and smiles through her tears. It’s a sad smile, but it’s there all the same. “He was that kind of dad, you know? We were definitely daddy’s girls.”