Safe With Me Part 19

Slowly, I bob my head and reach deep into my pocket for my cell phone, which amazingly didn't fall out during the struggle with my dad. I scroll through my contacts until I find the one I want.

Hannah answers on the third ring. When I hear her voice I start to sob-loud, body-racking movements that make it almost impossible for me to speak.

"Oh my G.o.d, Maddie!" Hannah says, panicked. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

I take a few hiccuping breaths as I attempt to calm down. "He tried to kill her," I finally say in a weak voice. "We have to go to the hospital. I have to talk with the police. We need you, Hannah. Can you . . . can you come?"

"Which hospital?" she inquires, and I look to the medic and ask the same thing.

"Swedish," the medic answers, and I relay this information to Hannah, who says she will meet me there. After we hang up, I can't help but feel that Emily made sure Hannah picked up the phone-that after all we've been through, her daughter wants me to be okay.

Hannah.

As Hannah pulls up to the same ER where she was with Emily just over a year ago, she tries to not let the painful memories of that day overwhelm her. Entering through the familiar sliding doors, she takes a deep breath and then gives the nurse at the reception desk Olivia's and Maddie's names.

After a moment, another nurse guides her back to a curtained area where Maddie lies in a bed. Hannah can barely stand the anger she feels at the sight of Maddie's swollen and bruised face-both of her eyes are blackened and her bottom lip is split open. The nurse told Hannah that Maddie's injuries look worse than they are-she escaped her father's beating with no broken bones, just a mild concussion. What about the injury to her heart? Hannah thinks. There's nothing mild about that.

"Hannah," Maddie says when she sees her. Her voice is raspy and she sounds exhausted. Next to the bed stands a tall, slightly gangly boy in a black robe and a man who looks enough like the boy that Hannah a.s.sumes he is his father. The boy turns to look at Hannah, too.

"I'm Noah," he says, "and this is my dad. We didn't want to leave Maddie alone."

"Nice to meet you both," Hannah says, quickly shaking hands with Noah's father. "I wish it was under better circ.u.mstances."

Noah speaks again. "The police should be here any minute to talk with her about what happened. I gave them my statement back at the house."

"You were there?" Hannah asks. A brief, traumatized look flashes across Noah's face and he bobs his head, lips pressed together firmly. His father reaches over and squeezes his son's shoulder, then moves his gaze to Hannah. "I think I should get him home now," he says. "If you're planning to stay."

"I am," Hannah a.s.sures him.

"I want to stay, too," Noah says emphatically, glancing at his father. "Please, Dad?"

"Maddie needs to rest, Son," his father says kindly. "And so do you. We can come back in the morning . . . okay?"

Noah turns his attention to Maddie, who nods. He leans down and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll text you, okay?" he says.

"Okay," Maddie says, tears filling her already red-rimmed eyes. He straightens and turns to leave, but Maddie's voice stops him. "Noah?"

"Yeah?"

"I know I already said this like twenty times, but . . . thank you."

"Eh. No biggie. Totally standard Sat.u.r.day night." Noah gives her a shaky grin, and then a moment later, he and his father are gone.

Hannah steps over next to the bed, reaching for Maddie's hand. "How's your mom?" Hannah asks. "Do you know?"

"She's in surgery," Maddie says, clearly trying not to cry. "The nurse told me she has broken ribs and internal bleeding. And a broken arm, so they're going to put screws in it so she hopefully can still use it."

"Oh, sweetie," Hannah says, not wanting to ask for specifics of the night's events yet, knowing the police will do that soon enough. "I'm so sorry. I'm sure the doctors will take good care of her." She waits a beat. "What about you? Are you okay?"

Maddie shrugs, then takes a shuddering breath. "I don't know what I would have done if Noah and I hadn't come home . . . my mom would be dead, Hannah. Dad was trying to kill her." Maddie dissolves into tears, and Hannah leans down to hold her, careful not to press against her bruised face.

"You're all right," she murmurs. "Everything will be all right." She keeps repeating this, smoothing Maddie's hair and letting her cry, until a few moments later, when a uniformed police officer pushes back the curtain and steps in to stand on the other side of Maddie's bed.

"Hi, Maddie," she says gently. She is a stocky woman with short blond hair and round, pink cheeks. "I'm Officer White, but you can call me Katie, okay?" Maddie pulls back from Hannah and nods, so Katie continues. "I need to ask you a few questions."

"Does she have to do this now?" Hannah asks.

"I'm sorry," Katie says. "I know this is a terrible time, but she'll remember the details better closer to the event. I'll go slow, I promise."

"It's okay," Maddie says with a sniffle. "I want to."

Hannah hands her a tissue from a table at the side of the bed, listening with growing horror as Maddie describes the scene she and Noah walked in on, and then what happened after that. Maddie couldn't say what led her father to attack Olivia-that would have to come later, from Olivia herself. Hannah can't believe the bravery Maddie and Noah showed, taking on James like that. No wonder Maddie thanked Noah; it sounds as though he might have saved her life.

"Has your dad ever hit your mother before?" Katie asks, keeping her voice low. Maddie nods, and the officer continues. "How long has it been happening?"

"As long as I can remember," Maddie says, and half an hour later, after Maddie has recounted everything she can think of about her father's abuse over the years, Katie says she has enough information for now, and it's time for her to go.

"I'll walk you out," Hannah says, wanting to talk with the officer alone. She looks at Maddie. "I'll be right back, okay?" Maddie nods, and Hannah walks with the officer to the waiting room.

"What happens now?" she asks Katie as they stand off to the side of the sliding doors. "To James Bell, I mean?"

"He's in custody," she responds. "And either an attempted murder charge or first-degree a.s.sault charges will be filed by the prosecutor's office. After that, there'll be a hearing, where his lawyer will probably ask for him to be released on his own recognizance. What happens after that all depends on which judge gets a.s.signed the case."

"Do you think they'll release him?" Hannah asks, disgusted at the thought.

The officer shrugs. "That remains to be seen. It's more likely he'll have a high bail set, and Mrs. Bell will have to file a restraining order once he pays it and gets out. But considering the violence of his acts tonight, no judge is going to just let him walk. If he doesn't make a deal and it gets to trial, hopefully he'll do some serious time." She pauses. "Still, Mrs. Bell should find a good lawyer. She's going to need one to make sure she and her daughter are protected."

Hannah thanks her and returns to Maddie's side just as a doctor in a blue surgical scrub cap approaches the bed. "I'm Dr. Peyton," she says, pulling off her cap to reveal a headful of short, tightly woven black braids. She looks at Maddie with kind brown eyes. "I just finished working on your mom."

Maddie's chin trembles. "Is she okay?"

Hannah can't help it; she starts to cry, unable to think of anything other than the moment when the doctor first told her there was no hope for Emily . . . that her daughter would most a.s.suredly die. She waits for the same words to tumble from this doctor's mouth about Olivia.

"She sustained some pretty serious injuries," Dr. Peyton says with a brief frown. "But luckily, we were able to stop the bleeding." She reaches over and runs a gentle palm down Maddie's forearm. "Don't you worry. After some time and healing, she'll be just fine."

Maddie lets loose a shuddering sigh. "Thank you," she manages to choke out. "When can I see her?"

"She's in recovery now," Dr. Peyton says. "The nurse will take you to her once she's settled into a room, most likely in an hour or so." She looks at Hannah. "And just so you're aware, Olivia will need to stay here at least a week, for observation. We're keeping Maddie overnight."

"Thank you," Hannah says, and then the doctor gives Maddie's leg a quick pat before walking away. Hannah pulls up a chair to sit next to Maddie's bed.

"Thanks for coming," Maddie says, rolling her head on the pillow so she can look at Hannah.

"Of course, honey," Hannah says. "I'm so glad you called me. It's hard to go through this kind of stuff alone."

"Noah's dad is freaking out that my dad did this to us," Maddie says. "They've worked together for like, a hundred years or something." She tears up again. "He thought my dad was kind of a jerk, but he never suspected . . . this. No one did."

Hannah puts her hand over the top of Maddie's. "A lot of the time, people see what they want to see. And no one wants to think someone they spend time with can do something like this." She waits a beat. "Your dad is a good actor, too, isn't he?"

Maddie nods, then releases a long sigh, her eyelids fluttering. "I'm so tired. I don't think I've ever been this tired, even when I was sick."

Hannah reaches for Maddie's blankets and tucks them up around her shoulders. "Why don't you try and sleep for a bit? I'll wake you when the nurse says you can see your mom."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

"Okay," Maddie says with a weak smile, then closes her eyes. Only a moment later her breaths deepen, and Hannah watches her while she sleeps, remembering how many times she did this same thing with Emily. Especially in the months preceding the accident, when her daughter seemed to be pulling further and further away. Hannah would tiptoe into her room after she was certain Emily was asleep, staring at her daughter's relaxed, beautiful face, charmed by the odd way she pushed out bits of air between her lips like she was trying to blow up a balloon. Those stolen moments, when sleep robbed Emily of the ability to throw up walls between them and she was still just a little girl, are among the things Hannah misses most.

It strikes Hannah now that her brother was right when he said that at one point or another, everyone pretends to be something they're not. This tendency starts so young-just as it did with Emily, when she first began to push Hannah away. We try on personalities like second skins, learning to present only the best version of ourselves to the world, fearful of what might happen if we reveal just how imperfect and vulnerable we really are. But it's those imperfections, Hannah realizes, those struggles, that truly connect us. It's what linked her and Olivia so quickly when they first met. It's the reason she's sitting here next to Maddie's bed, worried for this child as much as she once worried for her own.

After a while, Hannah begins to nod off, too, only to be awakened by the same nurse who had brought Hannah back to Maddie's bed. "Olivia's in her room now," she says. "She's conscious, and asking for Maddie."

Together, Hannah and the nurse gently shake Maddie awake, then help Maddie ease herself into a wheelchair. Hannah pushes the chair, following the nurse down a long corridor lighted by cool blue, fluorescent bulbs. They take the elevator to the fourth floor, and the nurse leads them to a private room at the end of the hall. She opens the door, but Hannah hesitates before entering.

"Maybe you should go in alone, first," Hannah says, her hands suddenly sweaty as they grip the handles of the wheelchair. She isn't sure if Olivia will want to see her.

"I want you to come with me," Maddie insists, so Hannah steadies herself and does as Maddie asks. Olivia lies in a bed against the far wall, tubes stringing out from her body just as they had from Emily's last year. Hannah swallows hard, trying not to cry at the memory, trying to be strong for Maddie. And Olivia, too.

"Mama," Maddie says, and Olivia opens her eyes, turning her head toward her daughter's voice.

"Baby girl," she whispers. Her voice is raw, and it looks to Hannah as though it hurts her to speak; her throat must be raw from the intubation tube they used in surgery. And, Hannah realizes, from James's hands around her neck. "Come here," Olivia says, and Hannah pushes Maddie over to her mother.

Olivia's eyes are swollen, black and blue like her daughter's, but it's clear she sees Hannah standing behind the wheelchair. "You're here?" she says quietly. Not angry, not accusing. Just a question.

"I called her," Maddie says, her words made fragile by tears. "I asked her to come."

Hannah holds Olivia's gaze with hers for a long moment. She understands why Olivia asked her to stay away from them-to protect them all from James should he find out who Hannah is to their family. But Olivia was also hurt that Hannah kept the truth from her-dishonesty, even if it is for a justifiable reason, is far from an ideal foundation for a friendship. But Hannah hopes that after the events of this night, Olivia might be willing to start over.

But instead of saying anything to Hannah, Olivia looks at her daughter again. She visibly flinches as she takes in Maddie's bruises and swollen flesh. "Oh, honey, your face," she whispers, trying to lift her arm to reach out to her daughter, but realizes the cast she's wearing prevents the movement. "Your father . . . ?" Maddie nods, and Olivia clenches her eyes shut. "What happened?" she asks, looking back at Maddie. "The last thing I remember is being in the living room . . . James. .h.i.tting me . . ." Her voice breaks, and Maddie puts her hand through the railing on the bed to touch her mother's leg. Slowly, she explains to Olivia what she told Hannah and the police officer earlier-how she and Noah managed to fight James off and called the police to take him away.

"He's in jail, now, Mama," Maddie says. "He can't hurt us anymore."

Olivia swallows carefully, clearly still struggling to speak through the pain in her throat. "I should have left him before . . . you were right." She looks at Hannah. "Both of you were right."

"That doesn't matter now," Hannah says gently, not wanting Olivia to feel any worse than Hannah suspects she already does. "What matters is that you're both alive and that he pays for what he did."

"I'll tell the police everything," Olivia says. "Do you think it will be enough? My word? That he'll go to prison and I can divorce him?"

"You can divorce him either way," Hannah says, wanting to touch Olivia but not knowing where to put her hand that won't hurt her.

"Noah and I will testify, too, Mom," Maddie adds. "It won't be just your word anymore."

Olivia presses her split, swollen lips together and nods her head once. Hannah decides to place just the tips of her fingers on Olivia's white blankets before she speaks again. "I think the best plan for right now is to take things one step at a time. First, you need to focus on getting better." She pauses, unsure what Olivia will say to what she's going to offer next, but knowing it's what she wants to do. "And if you want . . . if you're okay with it, Maddie can stay with me until you're back on your feet. Anything else you need, anything at all, I'm here."

Maddie looks at Hannah and then back to her mother again. "It's okay with me, Mom," she says, reaching out to take Hannah's free hand.

Olivia is quiet a moment, still gazing at Hannah. There is a hesitance in her eyes and a slight st.i.tch between her brows, making it clear that she's trying to sort out how she feels. "Thank you," she finally whispers, and Hannah knows she means this for so much more than just tonight.

And then Hannah smiles, realizing that no matter how quickly sorrow can demolish a life, a moment of kindness, a pure and simple act of forgiveness, can just as quickly save it.

Acknowledgments.

The idea for this book came to me over a decade ago, and at the time, I tried to wrench the story onto the page with little success. Maybe it wasn't ready to be told. Maybe I wasn't ready to tell it. Whatever the case, I am so grateful to my wise and wonderful agent, Victoria Sanders, who trusted me enough to give it another chance when I suggested I wanted to try again, and who later called me twice on a Sunday as she finished reading to say how much she loved it. She is a remarkable and savvy advocate in this crazy business, and I'm so lucky to have both her and her formidable staff-Bernadette Baker-Baughman and Chris Kepner-on my side.

Thanks to my editor, Greer Hendricks, who possesses brilliant insight into the stories I want to tell and always finds the kindest, most effective ways to challenge me and help make my writing better. Her support is an unparalleled gift.

Thanks to so many others at Atria Books-Judith Curr, Ben Lee, Paul Olsewski, Sarah Cantin, Lisa Sciambra, Hillary Tisman, Carole Schwindeller, Isolde Sauer, and Carly Sommerstein. This list could go on and on-to every member of the sales team, the art department, and marketing, I extend my most sincere grat.i.tude for taking such good care of me and my books. Special thanks to Cristina Suarez-Krumsick, my publicist at Atria, for her belief in my work.

Organ donation is a complex, variable experience for every individual or family member who goes through it, and while it would be impossible to adequately describe each of those experiences in a single story, my goal was to capture overall emotional truths. While conducting my research, I was fortunate enough to come in contact with Valerie Maury, family program manager at LifeCenter Northwest, a nonprofit organ procurement organization. Her patient and knowledgeable answers to my many, many questions about the psychological effects the process has on the recipients and the families involved were invaluable in the shaping of this book. (Any procedural inaccuracies are my own.) I'm so grateful for the enthusiasm of my social media friends, who cheer me on through the tough writing days and say such kind things about my books. I cannot express how much it means to connect with you all. For this book in particular, I must especially thank Joanie Mack, who when I cried out for help on Facebook, gave me the perfect French-themed name for Hannah's salon.

I must also thank social media for bringing Laura Meehan into my life, not only as a valuable editorial professional but as a dear and hysterically funny friend.

And finally, I could not live this writing life without the love and support of my family-heartfelt thanks to Anna, Scarlett, and Miles for being so proud that I'm a writer, and thanks to Stephan, always-for everything.

Questions and Topics for Discussion.

1. Consider the t.i.tle of the novel, and the idea of safety-both of a physical and emotional nature-in the story. Who is keeping whom safe in this book?

2. If you had been in Hannah's position, do you think you could have donated your child's organs? Why or why not?

3. Did Olivia and James's relationship change how you viewed domestic abuse? Does Olivia match your vision of an abuse victim?

4. What is the book saying about the relationship between one's physical exterior and their emotional and psychological state? How does each character try to project an outward appearance that is different from their internal feelings?

5. Read the novel's epigraph as a group. What does the concept of destiny, or fate, mean to you?

6. Olivia has many reasons for not leaving James, not the least of which are financial. Consider the power dynamics at play in their marriage. How does James make Olivia feel helpless-and how does he also make her feel special?

7. Dishonesty is a theme throughout the novel. Do you think that there are degrees of dishonesty? For example, is there a difference between fabricating a story and obscuring the truth? What qualifies as lying? And is dishonesty that has good intentions more excusable?

8. As a group, read the scene where James brings Olivia breakfast in bed. Can you empathize with Olivia's thinking that, "even though she knows better, even though she's been through this with him a hundred times before, Olivia can't help but wonder if she really needs to leave him after all."

9. Maddie's experience at the mall with Hailey and her friends highlights the perils of being a teenage girl. Do you have any memories from this age that are similar? Do you think the challenges of being an adolescent girl have inherently changed?