Page 83 of Angels Fall

She pauses for a breath.

“...And, uh, so... So, yeah, so on like day ten or twelve or whatever it was, after watching this all happen, mom and dad were out of the room, and I was sitting alone with him, and watching him on the oxygen, and unconscious, and all of it, and it just seemed like fuck, y’know? Like even if he comes out of this there would still be this, like, insane, impossible mountain to climb. And it just seemed... fuckin’... cruel to ask him to do that. And selfish. I mean the doctors wanted to save him because that’s their job, and the other firefighters wanted to save him because that’s their job, and like me and mom and dad wanted to save him because… Because of US. Right? Like WE wanted to keep him. But, shit, even if he could make it… What kind of life is that? And look, I dunno. I dunno what Scotty would’ve wanted if it was the other way around and it was me, or mom, or dad, or... You... Laying there. But I figured I’d just let him know that... Just give him the chance to decide what he wanted to do for himself. Because, you know. Scotty… If Scotty thought he was doing something for other people he’d just keep doing it, and I wanted him to know that he didn’t have to. So... When it was just me and him, I leaned in, and I told him, ‘It’s OK. You don’t have to keep going. It’s OK. You can stop climbing now, Scotty...”

She’s facing me. I’m shirtless. Pants unbuttoned. Stone faced. Stoic. Unblinking. With tears rolling down my cheeks and getting lost in my beard.

“...And so, y’know... He did. He stopped. His lungs collapsed right at almost that very moment, and he flat-lined, and I stood in the corner while they rushed in and tried to revive him, and failed, and called the time of death, and that was it.”

She pulls the back of her hair from inside the collar of her jacket and flops it out so that it spills over her shoulders, and drops her hands to her sides.

“That’s how Scotty died.”

She says it with a shrug in her voice, its casual nonchalance a punch to my chest. And the look on my face must say everything because she follows up with…

“You asked.”

MADDIE

I now know what it looks like to rip Tyler Morgan’s world out from under him.

A couple weeks ago I was planning this moment—I mean, if he was gonna stick around making my life hell, make me think about those last few days I spent in the hospital with my brother every time I looked at his handsome, bearded face, then I was gonna make him re-live it with me.

But now, after getting it all out, and not in any of the overly dramatic ways I’d planned—like punching him in the teeth when I had to say the part where they dragged Scotty out of that forest alive, or kicking him in the stomach when I had to say the part about Scotty being in the hospital—and I even left out the fact that he looked… well, there’s no word to describe what Scotty looked like in the end. Not a word that’s supposed to describe a human, anyway. So now, after getting it all out in the most calm, unaffected, unemotional way possible, it occurs to me that this might’ve been worse.

I think I just kicked Tyler in the balls and stomped on his face as I walked away.

No, my angel says. Stomped on his heart.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Tyler shakes his head, his face wet with tears, then swallows hard and says, “Why?”

“I’m… I should’ve been more careful in my delivery. I know you didn’t know. And it’s not something that should be said so casually, but—”

“No, why didn’t you tell me this in the letters?” His eyes are searching mine. Like there’s some elusive answer inside me that will explain everything.

Would it have made a difference? I almost say. But I don’t.

I shrug.

He’s still searching for that answer in my eyes.

It’s not there.

So I sigh and consider his question. Because he probably deserves an answer. And maybe I should stop trying to punish him. I mean, I’m not over the fact that he just bailed out when I needed him. But is staying angry about it helping?

It’s not helping me, that’s for damn sure.

“Well,” I say, stalling for time so I can pull my thoughts together. “I didn’t want you to come home…” Shit.

Tyler raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, I did want you to come home. But I didn’t want to you to come home for…”

The other eyebrow goes up. “Maddie, just say it already.”

I let out a long breath and the truth comes with it. “I didn’t want you to come home just for Scotty. OK?” I stare at him. Hard. Then soften. Swallow. “I wanted you to come home for me.”

“Oh,” he says.