Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
With me.
Beside me.
Forever.
I lifted my eyes to Lewis. “Please…help me…” I tapped my head. “Help me put this down in music. Just…help me.”
“Okay.” Lewis ran his hand through his hair again. “But Cromwell, let me explain. Please, just hear me out—”
“I can’t,” I said, choking. “Not yet.” I shook my head, a cave tunneling in my chest. I tried to breathe, but it felt too hard. “I can’t cope with that too…not yet.”
Lewis looked like he wanted to reach for me. His hand was raised, but I couldn’t go there. Not yet. “Okay.” He met my eyes. “We have little to no time, Cromwell. You ready for this? It’ll be days and nights, endless days and nights, to get this where it needs to be.”
A sense of purpose so strong settled the storm within me. “I’m ready.” I sucked in a breath, and this time I could breathe. “I have it inside me, Professor. I always have.” I closed my eyes, thought of my dad, Bonnie, and the music that had tried to claw its way from my soul for too long. “I’m ready to compose.” A sudden shift in me seemed to calm my mind, my emotions. “I’m done with pushing it all away.”
“Then follow me.” Lewis led me to the music room he’d taken me to the night I’d found Easton, wrists slit, in our dorm room. I moved straight to the piano and sat down. My fingers found their place on the keys, and I opened my soul and let the colors fly.
Reds and blues, purples and pinks swarmed around me, engulfing me in a cloud. And I let them fall where they lay, my fingers showing me the way.
Azure.
Peach.
Ochre.
And violet blue.
I would forever chase the violet blue.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bonnie
I stared at the letter in my hand. The letter I hadn’t been able to open for days now. My hands shook as I lifted the envelope to my nose. I inhaled the spiced scent that still clung to the paper. Easton. The familiar smell was a dagger to my heart.
His heart.
I pressed the letter to my chest and closed my eyes. The lump that had clogged my throat since I’d woken up swelled as I thought of Easton. His smile. His laugh. The way people were drawn to him like a magnet. Then that Easton washed away, leaving the sad version of my brother that sometimes took him over. The one who was bathed in black and gray paint, forlorn and so down not even the sunniest of days could raise his spirits.
“Easton,” I whispered as I ran my hand over my name on the envelope.
I glanced down at my black dress and black tights. I appealed to my soul to help me make it through, knowing what lay before me today. My first outing into the real world after my surgery.
The final goodbye to the brother who had saved my life. Who had been my life for so long, I wasn’t sure how to breathe without him. Music came from the nurses’ station beyond the door, and I heard the high-pitched notes of laughter.
I wanted to smile at the happiness in their voices. But when I looked down at the envelope, I didn’t know if I would ever be able to feel happy again.
I stayed that way for over an hour, just staring at the letter. Finally, when I had mustered up enough courage, I flipped it open and unveiled the letter inside.
My hands shook so hard I wasn’t sure I’d be able to read it. But I turned it over and opened it. The letter wasn’t long. And before I’d even read a single word, my vision blurred with tears.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe. My new heart beat like a drum in my chest. The feeling still shocked me. I wasn’t used to hearing such a rhythmic beat. But the beat was strong and loud, and it should have made me feel full of life.
Instead I felt empty.
I took a deep breath and looked down at the words written just for me…
Bonnie,
As I write this, I’m looking at the lake we love so much. Have you ever realized how blue it is in the sun? How peaceful? I don’t think I’ve ever looked at the earth much and truly seen its beauty.
I’m writing this as you lie in your hospital bed. Papa has just called to let me know that you don’t have long left. I don’t know if you will ever get this letter. I don’t know if you’ll make it. And if that’s the case, then I’m sure we’re together somewhere, somewhere that isn’t this world. Somewhere better. Somewhere where there’s no pain.
But if by some miracle you get a heart at the last minute, then I wanted to write you this note. And I wanted you to know why I just couldn’t do it anymore.