Chapter 361
My mind starts racing, pieces not fitting together, the dream replaying itself over and over again in my head.
“What if someone took her?” I ask.
Even as I say that, one word keeps playing in my head… The cliff.
“We aren’t sure,” Lilly answers. “But she’s not here and she’s not fully recovered and that scares me, Mom p>
I can feel her worry through the phone. I know my daughter; she loves Sierra so fucking much and now that worry is pushing her to the edge of hysteria.
“We’ll find her, I promise.” I promise, already pushing the covers off and standing up. “Try the other and let me know if you find something p>
The call ends, but I remain frozen for a moment, the phone still in my hand as my thoughts spiral.
The dream… It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t mean anything and yet I can’t shake it no matter what.
Andrew has never appeared to me like that before. Not once. Not in all the years he’s been gone, but he did now. Why? and the way he said it. With urgency, it must mean something.
A cold certainty settles in my chest. I feel it in my bones.
“I need to go,” I say into the air. “Now p>
“Where are you going?” Gabe asks, his eyes searching.
“The cliff p>
I don’t question it; I just get out of bed and grab the keys.
Gabe follows behind me before taking the keys from my hands. He then takes my hand and leads me till we are outside.
He doesn’t ask or question me; he just helps me into the car, gets in and starts the engine.
The drive feels longer than it should
Every second stretches, my hands gripping the seatbelt tighter than necessary as my thoughts run wild. I don’t know what I’m going to find when I get there, but the feeling in my chest doesn’t ease. If anything, it grows heavier with every mile.
Please the dream be wrong… Please.
When we finally reach the cliff, my heart is already in my throat. I step out of the car quickly, my eyes scanning the area, searching and that’s when I see her.
Sierra stands at the very edge, her back to me, her body swaying slightly as if the wind might take her over at any moment.
My heart stops and fear like I’ve never known fills me.
“Sierra!” I call out, my voice breaking as I rush toward her.
She doesn’t turn or move. It’s as if she can’t even hear me.
Panic surges through as I finally realize what she’s doing here. As I realize why she’s standing so close to the edge.
“Sierra, stop p>
I reach her just as she shifts her weight forward. Without thinking, I grab her arm and pull her back and she stumbles into me, her body weak and unsteady. For a moment, I have to hold onto her tightly just to keep her upright.
“What are you doing?” I demand, my voice shaking despite my attempt to steady it.
She turns to me then, and the look in her eyes makes my chest ache.
She’s shattered. Tears stream down her face, her entire body trembling as she tries to speak.
“My baby…” she chokes out, her voice breaking completely. “He’s gone… He’s gone and I—” Her breath hitches violently. “I can’t do this. I can’t—there’s nothing left p>
The words hit me like a blow and the pain swimming in her eyes shatters me to pieces.
I cup her face, forcing her to look at me, grounding her as best as I can.
“Sierra, listen to me,” I say firmly, even though my own heart is pounding. “Your baby is alive p>
She freezes and for a second, she just stares at me, like she didn’t hear me correctly, like her mind can’t process the words.
“What?” she whispers, her voice fragile.
“Your baby is alive,” I repeat, softer this time but no less certain.
Her expression crumples, confusion mixing with disbelief.
“No…” she shakes her head weakly. “No, the nurse—she wouldn’t tell me anything. I—I know what that means p>
“You were unconscious and there were complications, yes,” I tell her gently but firmly. “But your baby survived p>
She stares at me, searching my face, like she’s trying to find any sign that I might be lying to her.
“He’s alive?” she asks, her voice barely there.
“Yes,” I say, holding her gaze.
For a moment, she just stands there, the words sinking in slowly, then her knees give out.
I catch her before she hits the ground, pulling her into me as a broken sob escapes her lips, this time not just from grief but from relief.
I hold her tightly, letting her cry, my own heart aching at the sound.
“Let’s get you back to the hospital.” I tell her softly after a moment, brushing her hair back from her face.
She doesn’t argue. She just nods weakly, holding onto me like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.
“Yes, let’s go see my baby,” she whispers.
My hands tremble as I lead her to the car. I let her hold on to the promise of seeing her baby even as my heart clenches, because I know very well I haven’t told her the whole truth.