~K~

It's as if a tornado descended upon my family, leaving pieces broken and scattered in its wake. My mother's a mess, Jane's beside herself, and my father is apologetic and broken.

Lynne and Bella send their regards, causing more strife since they couldn't even come out here for their own brother.

We sit around Ethan's bed, the steady beeps of machinery the only music to comfort us. My mother weeps silently as she clutches Ethan's hand. Jane and I huddle together to offer Mom support while our dad silently watches from the corner.

It's our second day here and things don't look any better. Ethan's condition hasn't changed and the doctors don't know if he'll wake up in a few days or a few months. There's a slight chance he may never wake up.

He'd injected twice the amount of heroin he used to take, and his body went into shock as he convulsed on the floor. The nurse heard the commotion in his room and rushed in, immediately calling for emergency services. There was staff on site trained to deal with emergencies and unexpected complications, and while the ambulance made its way there, the on-site doctors tried to revive Ethan.

Nothing worked, not even the Narcan used before. As Ethan slipped deeper and deeper into a coma, a slight pulse, faint but there, kept hope going.

All we can do now is wait. The doctors have done everything they can. They don't know if he lost oxygen or if he'll have any sort of brain or heart damage when he wakes.

We can only pray.

My shoulders slump. Guilt weighs heavily on me.

I should've been there for him more. I should've helped him sooner. I'm a trained psychologist for fuck's sake and I failed my brother. My own brother. My best friend growing up.

If only I'd forced him into treatment instead of letting him slip through my fingers...

The tears spill over as I squeeze Jane's hand, her own tears sliding down her cheeks.

I cry for Ethan, for my mom, for Jane.

I weep for failing as a therapist and for failing my own brother.

On top of it all, I grieve for Emma. I grieve for all that's happened and for all that could've been.

~E~

The next few days pass in a blur. I give statements, I help police identify the bodies, and I block everything else out.

I'm numb.

Numb to Connie's death.

Numb to my own pregnancy.

Numb to the fact that I never got a real chance with Knox.

Sarah stays with me, never letting me leave her sight.

It was one of the hardest ordeals I've ever had to go through.

The police think Connie killed herself and Dan turned the gun on himself. Investigation is under way to figure out what happened. There’s speculation Dan may have killed Connie, or Connie killed Dan.

What it boils down to is two people are dead.

One I was invested in, one I spent countless hours with helping her move past her depression.

And now, she's gone. My heart breaks as I think of what she must've been thinking, feeling. Did he try to talk her out of it? Or did he push her into it?

If only, she'd called me. Reached out to me. She knew I was a phone call away, always on standby for her.

I should've done more, been there for her more. Offered her more extensive therapy, more treatment. Instead I failed her. I was her only therapist and I failed her.

When I'm not helping the police, I curl into a ball in Sarah's bed, unable to move. I block the world out, unable to deal. My entire being is detached, frozen in time.

Sarah tries to talk to me, tries to pierce her way into my brain. But I can't hear; my heart crashes in my ears, the sound deafening.

* * *

"Em! I know you're in there!" A pillow slaps my back and I swat it away. The light from the window is blinding, who in the hell opened it?

I pull the covers over my head and block out the light and the noise.

"Don't ignore me, Em! I've brought back-up!" Sarah shouts.

Back-up? What in the fuck is she talking about?

"Emma! You will get your sad ass out of this bed. Sarah doesn't want to smell you anymore." Abbie's voice carries through the blanket and my eyes snap open. I pull away the covers. There she is, her bright smile shining down on me.

"Sarah called me for help. Now, get your fucking ass up!" Abbie whips the covers off me and a chill runs through me, having slept in nothing but a tank top and panties.

"Hey! I'm trying to sleep!" I sit up and grab for the blanket but Abbie's quick and darts out of the way in record speed.

"Em, I love you, but damn, girl, you need to shower and brush your teeth." Sarah sits next to me on the bed, her eyes searching mine. They're full of love and concern. I look away.

"And, you need to eat. You're growing a little miracle in there." Abbie says as she brings over a cup of tea.

I narrow my eyes at Sarah. "You told her?"

Sarah shrugs and holds her hands out, palm up. "I'm sorry. I've been beside myself worried about you."

Abbie sits next to me on the other side, gently placing the tea down on the nightstand. "Don't be mad at Sarah. She's concerned. Besides, you would've told me anyway, or I would've hurt you."

I flop back down on the bed. All I want to do is sleep and forget about everything else.

"Em, come on. Let's get you in the shower and get a warm meal in you. Then, we'll talk." Sarah grabs my hand, attempting to pull me back up.

"Sounds like a great idea" Abbie chimes in as she tries to hoist me up with my other hand.

"No, no." I groan. My stomach hurts, a sharp pain bothering me since last night. A wave of nausea hits me out of nowhere and I let them pull me up as I try to breathe through it.

"Nauseous again?" Sarah rubs my back.

I nod before pushing myself off the bed. "I'll shower, okay?"

I leave them there murmuring to each other. I know it's about me and I'm happy to have concerned friends, but right now, I'd rather be left alone.

The bathroom illuminates in light and I blink my eyes a few times to adjust. I turn on the shower. While I wait for the water to heat up, I sit down on the toilet in hopes I can relieve some of my stomach pain.

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain strikes my abdomen, and I double over, clutching my stomach.

I cry out as another sharp pain, this one more intense, shoots through me. I feel wetness between my legs and when I look down, blood gushes out of me, down my legs and into the toilet.

I scream as more blood pours into the toilet.

A cold sweat takes over my body, my hair sticking to my forehead. Blinking rapidly, I try to make sense of the blood.

There's tons of blood... I've never seen so much...

Fear wraps his cold hands around my neck, and it's as if I'm choking, the air pushed from my lungs.

And, then, all I see is black.