One grabbed the sheet that had slipped during their race to save her and repositioned it over her body, covering everything vital.
Another turned and put down the paddles that were in his hands.
As one they all turned and watched as the final man started back up with the doppler. When he shook his head, I knew.
She was gone.
Just like that.
It didn’t matter that hours before she’d been talking to me like normal.
It didn’t matter that in two months, we were going to Disney World.
It didn’t matter that in a week, it was Thanksgiving, or in four more weeks, it was Christmas.
My whole entire world shattered.
The tears that had been threatening spilled over once again, and I blindly turned and started away, set on going somewhere to cry this out.
But then Castiel was there, wrapping his strong arms around me.
He smelled good. Like spice, wood, and leather. And for once I felt small in a man’s arms.
I cried even harder then, because my mom would’ve had that one day. She would’ve lost a ton of weight. She would’ve been mobile, and able to do things that she hadn’t been able to do since I was a kid.
And my dad would’ve loved her just the same.
Because my mother was his girl. His one and only. The NASCAR to his track.
“Do you mind if I go and sit with her?” my dad asked, startling me out of my contemplation.
“The house supervisor will go get her cleaned up, and then you can go in there with her however long you want,” Pru said. “Do you want us to move her to a smaller room? One that allows you more privacy?”
I swallowed hard when my father didn’t reply, and I looked over to find him looking alone, lost and devastated.
“If you don’t mind,” I said, pulling away only slightly so that my face was no longer buried in Castiel’s chest. “I’d like it if she was moved. Is it okay if we go back to that little room? I have to call my family, and I don’t really want to do that in your hallway.”
Pru nodded quickly. “Yes, that’s perfectly fine. You use that room as long as you need it.”
I hated that room and never wanted to see it again.
I now understood exactly what it was.
A grieving room.
A room that they put you into when they know that whoever you’re there to see has died—or is about to die.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
Castiel pulled away then, but not far. Only far enough that he could wrap his arm around my shoulder and guide me to where I wanted to go.
When we passed my father, I grabbed his hand and pulled him along with me. He came willingly, shuffling along like his entire world had just stopped. Had died right along with my mother.
I didn’t blame him. I was feeling quite hollow myself.
And the tears? Those wouldn’t stop. No matter how much I told myself that I needed to get it under control.
It was long minutes later, when I finally got my sobbing to a more manageable level, that I called Bud.
I didn’t want my dad to have to do it.
Mainly because I was here and could make the call.
But mostly because I was fairly sure that my dad would break down in sobs, and I couldn’t handle that right then.
So, I dialed the number of my other half, my twin brother, and pressed call.
It rang three times, and he didn’t answer.
I dialed again.
He didn’t answer.
After the fourth try, I looked at my watch. I wasn’t wearing it.
I must’ve left it on Castiel’s end table.
“It’s three fifty-three,” Castiel’s chest rumbled from under my ear.
I swallowed hard.
“If I wanted to get a hold of my brother, who is in the military…how do I do that?” I asked.
“Where’s he stationed?” he asked.
“Fort Hood,” I answered. “Most of the time. I’m not sure what exactly he does, or if he’s even there at this point. He’s gone a lot, at the drop of a hat. God, he might even be out of the country.”
He gave me a soft squeeze. “Keep calling who you need to call, and let me deal with your brother.” He paused. “What’s his full name?”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against his chest, uncaring that the wooden arm of the chair I was sitting in was digging uncomfortably into my ribs as I did.
“Bud…no, sorry. Avery Simmons Hooch.” I closed my eyes and counted to ten as the tears threatened again. “Simmons was my mother’s maiden name.”
He gave me a light squeeze and pulled me just a little bit closer.
I took a few more deep breaths, then scrolled down from my brother’s name to my aunt’s name.
My mom and my aunt were twins just like Bud and I were. However, they were identical whereas Bud and I had been fraternal.