Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
My knees felt weak, because I didn’t see how I would make it through this hell I was in. I understood the metaphor. The peaks represented our grief, obstacles in our way to happiness. But I would have backed myself to climb these peaks. I was physically fit. Had a sportsman’s determination. Coping with my grief? I didn’t back myself at all. I worried more than anything that I could never defeat it.
Feeling myself start to spiral, I rocked on my feet, only to feel Savannah’s hand brush against mine again. And I didn’t know why I did it. I didn’t try to overthink it, but I reached out with my little finger and I wrapped it around hers.
Her hand was trembling, and it immediately made me focus on her and shake off the panic that had settled within me. Savannah was in hell with me too. Everyone who was here was in the fire with me too.
We weren’t alone.
I inhaled a deep breath. Resilience. I wasn’t sure I had any when it came to coming to terms with what Cillian did. I wasn’t sure Savannah did either when it came to her Poppy. But if this trip didn’t help us? What then?
“Resilience,” Mia repeated. “You are resilient. Each and every one of you. And you are all stronger than you know.” She smiled. “We see it in you, shining as brightly as the sun. We see hope. We see bravery. We see strength.”
“We’re proud of you,” Leo added and then left us all on the spot, to let their words soar above our heads. The long sleeves of our coats hid Savannah’s and my joined fingers—still clinging on, finding strength through one another. It was our secret—how much we were keeping each other standing. I absently watched other people on the peak climbing and striving to complete the difficult route.
The sound of boots crunching on the frozen ground pulled my attention. When I looked behind me, Dylan, Travis, Jade, and Lili were heading back to Mia and Leo who were waiting at the bus.
But Savannah remained beside me, suspended in the moment.
“We did it,” she said, giving a sliver of hope echoing what Mia and Leo had said. I wondered if she believed she could get through her grief too, that this trip was going to heal her, help her move on.
“We did,” I said and watched an older couple reach the bottom of the peak. The woman threw herself into her husband’s arms in celebration. I curled my finger tighter around Savannah’s. To experience that level of happiness again seemed so out of reach.
It seemed impossible.
Savannah broke through my inner despair by quietly whispering, “I … I think Poppy would be proud of me.” A slight tremble returned to her hand as she said it, and a sorrowful rasp laced her voice. This time I had to look at her. Savannah’s gaze was facing the peak, so I lifted my free hand and brought my finger to her chin. Her skin was freezing to the touch. I slowly guided her face toward me. Her eyes were lowered. I waited until she lifted her blue gaze to meet mine. There were tears in her eyes, but when one fell down her cheek, it was met with a wisp of a smile.
My heart fired off into a sprint. Savannah gripped my finger tighter, and I allowed a single, fleeting moment to think of my brother away from how I last saw him. How he had been before. My eyes closed and I could just see him now, cheering for me as he had when I was on the ice, huge grin plastered on his face and his fists in the air. I could picture him here too, waiting at the bottom of the peak, shouting “That’s my brother!”
A choked sound ripped from my throat at the visual, and my tortured mind tried to quickly slam the door on that thought, tried to prevent the damage it could do. But I held on to that image regardless; it was better than the other one that haunted me every minute of every day.
When I opened my eyes, the view was hazy, until a tear fell down my cheek, clearing my sight. I focused on Savannah, taking solace and fortitude in her touch, and managed to find the courage to say, “He would be proud of me too.”
Savannah gave my finger two soft squeezes. I noticed she did this when she wanted to give me comfort but clearly lacked the words. And as simple as a gesture it was, it was a healing balm over an open wound. It stopped the pain for enough time to help me catch my breath.
After holding each other together for several more minutes with our understanding stare, we turned back to the bus, but never let go of one another. Not even when we sat back on the bus.