Whispering Minds Read Free

slowed and her heart was struggling to keep rhythm. The hours passed. We haggled over the love triangle—both of us taking opposite sides—and her limbs grew cooler under the blankets, her body slowly shutting down.
    I knew this day was coming. We had discussed at length the physical implications of Granny’s disease and prepared for it in many ways. But not for this. Not these last hours and minutes. Instead, we had stolen Sundays and acted like the cancer didn’t belong to us.
    With every page, I retreated to a different Sunday with a different book. Candlelit readings during fall thunderstorms. A three-day marathon as a blizzard raged outside. Back in time to when I took over the reading from Granny and she made the chai tea instead of me. Reading aloud together was what we did, whether on the front step surrounded by the sweet scent of summer blooms or snuggled around the fireplace with the wood crackling between our words.
    But now, the only light came from the glaring fluorescent bulbs and the stench of antiseptic hung heavy in the air. I closed the book. “I can’t do this.”
    Granny’s hand found mine. “You must, child. It’s what we both want.”
    “Wanted.” The word popped out before I could stop it. I didn’t even try to keep the next ones back. “It’s a trilogy.”
    We did that, the two of us. We read trilogies, as if the promise of an incomplete story would be enough to cheat death. That was impossible now.
    “Keep reading so I can find out if she lives.”
    “You know she does.” My voice cracked, dry from reading, drier still from the thought of never finishing. “That’s why there’s another book.”
    Granny tapped the cover, her voice clear, though her eyes were not. “Just like there will be for you.”
    And so I read. At times, Granny’s breathing became so shallow I stopped to listen, leaning closer to her frail body, waiting for the next intake of air. I didn’t know if she could hear me or not. I didn’t care. I read in spite of the fear that chased through me. Or rather, because of it. I had to finish the book.
    I rushed without rushing, my words even, the cadence lyrical in the air between us. I tried to prolong our time together, all the while terrified of what would happen if I never completed the novel.
    At first I gave Granny drinks between each chapter. Then just ice chips to cool her parched lips when swallowing hurt too much. I pushed on. Tears stung my eyes, and I choked on the words. At one point, Granny rubbed my hand, though she never opened her eyes.
    The curtain rustled, and I looked up into the darkening room. A small part of me longed for my parents to return to Granny’s bedside where they belonged. A bigger part hated the thought of their intrusion. Before my eyes adjusted enough to see who had arrived, Granny gasped in a breath of air.
    Frantically, I turned back to the book. Ten pages left. I read the words with tears streaming down my face. They soaked the pages. Granny’s fingers twined with my own, and I fought to finish what we had started.
    With the last words, I closed the book and gathered my grandmother to me. “I love you, Granny. Forever…”
    “…and always.” The words came out a dry whisper.
    I opened my mouth to say more, but couldn’t. Goodbye was too final. I wasn’t ready for that. I would never be ready.
    Granny’s hand pressed against my arm, shattering my world with her ritual four strong taps. Until next time.
    There is no next time, I wanted to scream.
    I stroked her cheek, brushing the hair from her face, and held her when she released a last rattling breath and the heart monitor sang its steady beep. I buried my head on her shoulder and sobbed my goodbye.
    Hands touched my back, pulling me away.
    I lashed out, and a deep keening ripped from my throat.
    And then Travis was there, carrying me away from the darkness of my loss.

Chapter 3
     
    Morning light streamed in through the kitchen window of the Stone residence. I held