Her cell phone rang, but she didn't make a move to answer it. She wasn't speaking, not to anyone about anything. She couldn't form sentences. She'd killed her sister and Phil and now her mother was dead too. She'd always thought of him as evil, but he'd turned her mother into a person Emery didn't recognize. Maybe he'd turned Emery into a monster as well.

Her phone chirped that she had a message. It'd been doing that every few minutes for the past hour and Emery simply couldn't pull her drunk ass out of bed to quit the annoying chirping. Then it rang again.

"FUCK!" Emery screamed at the top of her lungs.

She rolled over on her back and looked up at the hammered tin on the ceiling. Please stop calling me. The phone rang again and Emery threw herself on the floor and crawled into the den where the phone was on the charger, still ringing. It was Rachel. She couldn't talk to her. She couldn't talk to anyone.

A text appeared.

Emma, this is Meme. Tim told me to come get you and bring you to Lucas but you aren't answering your phone.

Her heart stopped beating. She would die, drunk and in Noah's Vanderbilt jersey. It was the only thing she had of his and it comforted her for some reason, she didn't know why. As soon as she started listening to the voicemails, there was a knock on her door. She was on her hands and knees, her head hung so low her chin rested on her chest. She didn't want Meme to see her like this. Ms. Carter must've let her into the building. Emery didn't move. She was frozen. The knocking grew louder.

"Emma?" Meme called from the other side of the door. "Tim said to come get you and take you to one of your kids' houses."

Emery sat back on her heels in what looked like a yoga pose and was quiet. Her mind wouldn't work to even respond.

"Emma? I know you're in there and Tim told me you may be in a state. Baby girl, just let me in."

Pushing herself off the ground, she walked over to the door and opened it. Without greeting Meme, she turned and walked into her room to put pants on.

"Emma, are you okay?" By the sound of Meme's voice, it sounded like she was staying in the den. She appreciated that.

She pulled on jeans, rain boots, her coat, and a wool cap. When she started toward the den again, she grabbed some gum off the counter and popped it in her mouth. Emery was drunk, and she shouldn't be going anywhere involving her job, but it was Lucas.

"Emma..." Meme's mouth hung open and her face showed shock as she took in Emery's appearance and demeanor. She clamped her mouth shut and she followed Emery out to her car. Once they both got in, Meme turned to face Emery, who was sitting with her head against the passenger side window. "I'm not sure what's going on, but you need to pull it together, baby. It doesn't sound good."

Emery blinked. My life isn't good. My life is miserable. All that surrounds me is misery.

Nothing. She thought nothing, heard nothing but the monotone voice of the GPS system telling them which way to go. She didn't need that, she had the route memorized. If she could talk, she could direct Meme.

When they turned down the street that Emery knew very well, everything stopped. She felt like she was in some sort of movie where everything froze, but she kept moving. The air stopped entering her lungs, the scream caught in her throat, and she felt life leave her. The blue lights that lined the road leading up to Lucas's home flashed on their faces as Meme tried to figure out where to park. Emery couldn't hear anything and it felt like a weight was on her chest. She searched the road for Tim-the only part of her body that worked was her eyesight-but she couldn't see him. Meme pulled up very close to the house.

Her nothing came crashing down as she got out of the car. She saw nothing but a body bag being wheeled out of the house. Her guts seized in fear and everything else fell away. She braced herself on a tree with one hand and vomited up all the vodka she'd had over the past twenty-six hours. When she looked up, the cart with the body was being shut in the coroner's vehicle.

"Yeah, it's a bad scene over here. Yeah, the kid." Emery looked up at the cop with his phone calling in the scene. "DFCS has been involved." The cop walked by her and she heard the words that shut down any sort of functioning she was capable of. "No, he didn't make it."

"Lucas," she sputtered, spit and drool slipping off her chin and falling to the ground to pool on the leaves collected under her feet. She put both hands on her knees and tried not to scream. She had now officially lost the very kid that she'd been working so hard to help. Nothing she did mattered. She'd failed Lucas. Without realizing it, more vodka escaped Emery's mouth. Her nose was burning with the puke.

Meme came around and put a hand on her shoulder. "Emma, I think we should go," she said softly.

Emery looked up and saw Trina coming out of the house in handcuffs. Tim had his hand on her elbow, leading her toward his cruiser, and it was like the cord that had been barely holding her together snapped.

No! Lucas was the only person left who could save her. She'd lost everyone. Her life stopped here. She would leave everything here.

Emery pushed herself up and rushed to Trina, ramming her shoulder into her at full speed. Trina was screaming and floundering on the ground. She'd knocked Tim down too. Emery was straddling Trina and she began pummeling Trina's face, ribs, and stomach. Emery heard nothing. She didn't hear Meme yelling. She didn't hear Tim calling her name. She just kept hitting Trina. Blood was on her hand and splattered on her face. Then she felt herself being pulled. Pulled away from Trina and her fucked up selfish bullshit. Tugged from the reality of what she saw. Jerked from this half-ass life she'd tried to make for herself in Savannah. In the moment she was uprooted from beating Trina's ass, she realized everything she'd ever done was a lie. Her life was a fucking lie.

"Emma." Tim was breathing into her ear. "Breathe, baby, just breathe."

She was done breathing, but she was still screaming. Lucas was gone, they were taking him away and she, the liar, the asshole, the nothing was still here.

He'd made her better for a short time. She couldn't be better.

She felt a prick in her arm and everything turned black.

CHAPTER FIFTY.

No Fight Left

She blinked rapidly as the grimy room came into focus. Inhaling deeply, the pungent smell of antiseptic filled her nose. She tried to ease into her new reality; the only people that she'd stayed around for were dead. Dead and gone. Why was she still here? Emery closed her eyes for a few seconds, hoping that this was just a drunken nightmare. Oh shit, I'm going to be sick.

Her eyes flew open. She was in an empty hospital room. Emery dry heaved into a plastic dish she found sitting on the tray next to her bed. Tears fell from her eyes; she wiped them away with the back of her hand. There were beeps and voices outside her room. Panic began circling her, surrounding her and closing in around her. She had to get out of here.

She put her feet on the floor and stood up slowly, then walked the few steps to the chair where her clothes were neatly folded. On top of her clothes was the bracelet Rachel bought her. It taunted her. Her purse and shoes were sitting on the floor in front of the chair. A Trenta size Starbucks coffee cup sat next to her shoes. She only knew one person who drank a coffee that size. She wondered if Rachel was still in the hospital. Her phone told her it was 5:00 am and that she'd missed a million calls from Rachel. She texted Rachel quickly.

Headed back to the apartment She threw her arms and legs into her clothes and shoved her feet into her rain boots. She shoved the bracelet into her jeans pocket, not able to bring herself to put it on. Pulling her wool cap down to her eyes, she peered out of the door, thankful she didn't see anyone in the hallway.

She hurried to the stairs and took the three flights down to the lobby slowly, then speed walked out the front door to where the lone cab driver sat waiting just to the left of the entrance. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it may burst out of her chest. She gave the cabbie her address and leaned back as she watched the sun peek up over the water. She texted Rachel again.

Thanks for bringing my purse.

"Thank you," Emery said and handed the cab driver her money out of her bag that Rachel had somehow brought to the hospital and slid out of the back seat. She had no recollection of anything other than Lucas was dead. Ashley was dead. She hadn't been able to help anyone.

She took a deep breath and took out her key, unlocking the door and trudging up the stairs. Her door was slightly ajar, but that didn't surprise her since she'd left drunk out of her mind, but then she saw Rachel standing in her den. She was holding two books in her hands, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. Derrick was sitting on the couch on the phone.

"What are you doing?" Emery asked still standing at the entrance of her apartment.

"Emery, things are a little..." Rachel looked to Derrick for help. "Complicated. We came as soon as we heard."

"How did you hear?" Emery asked.

"It was on the news. You can't beat the shit out of a mom at a crime scene where there are TV cameras and think that won't get picked up," Rachel chastised.

"I don't give a fuck," Emery barked and walked into her room. She was so done with everything.

Rachel looked at Derrick and then followed Emery into the bedroom. "Listen, I know you're upset..."

"Upset!" Emery spun around and yelled. "Upset? You don't know shit. I can't even describe to you how I feel because it is so beyond anything I've ever felt. There's no name for this emotion," she choked out.

Rachel stepped close to Emery and tried to hug her.

Emery shook her head. "You should've told me, Rach. You should've known that Ashley was raped. I needed you to know." Her voice caught with emotion she needed to wring out of herself like water out of a wash rag. Emery was so fucking tired of emotions.

Rachel's eyes went wide and she stepped back. "Emery..." she warned.

"I can't handle all of this. I don't know how." Emery slumped on the bed. "I'm so mad. I..."

"You can't be mad at me. After all the ..."

"Yes, the fuck, I'm mad at you. I'm mad at you the most, because you said you'd watch after her."

Derrick's boots made his presence known before he entered Emery's room. He pointed his finger before he even said anything. "Emery, you need to be careful. Think before you say any more. All Rachel has ever done is save your fucking ass."

Rachel sagged into him.

Emery's rage consumed her. "Just get the fuck out of here, both of you. I can take care of myself."

"What-" Rachel's face crumbled at Emery's tone.

"Come on, Rachel, let's give her some space." Derrick took her hand and began pulling her out of Emery's room.

"Emery, I need you to calm down and then we'll be back," Rachel said through clenched teeth. "I'm giving you an hour before I expect your apology."

"Fuck you." Emery turned around and walked toward her closet.

She heard the door slam as Derrick and Rachel left. Now she had no one. Now she would leave. Emma Simpson would be left on the floor of this apartment where she'd never be seen or heard from again. Her job would be filled by some other nameless, faceless bleeding heart that wouldn't be able to help anyone either. All the kids on her caseload would be shifted to someone else. Emma's absence in Savannah would be swallowed up and no one would give a shit.

She began throwing clothes in a suitcase. She left her notebooks, the ones that reminded her she was okay. She left her computer; she'd get another one. Noah's jersey lay in a heap on the floor in her closet for someone to find. Emery didn't want anything that tied her to any of the people she was before. They didn't exist anymore.

Emery stopped at the door and looked around the apartment, appreciating the memories that she'd try to forget. She pulled the cuff that Rachel had given her out of her pocket, the one that reminded her to be brave. She let it fall from her fingertips and the harsh sound as it hit the floor prompted her last round of tears.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE.

Make Me Wanna Die

Twenty minutes later, she was sailing down 95 and hurrying to get lost on the road. She stopped at a fast food restaurant and ate breakfast. After wiping everything that was Emma Simpson off her phone, she set it on the table and walked out of the restaurant. Her life was over, now she just had to go somewhere she wouldn't hurt anyone she loved anymore.

Her windows were down and The Pretty Reckless blared from the speakers. Her hair blew around in a mess of tangles and despair. Tears no longer flowed like a leaky faucet; she'd cried herself dry. She'd lost herself again for a while in Savannah and in falling in love with someone she didn't expect. Now Tim knew that she didn't really exist and that everything about her was a lie. Lucas was dead. Ashley was dead. Her mother was dead. Phil was dead. Emery was truly alone.

The pain was too much to rationalize and the thought occurred to her to turn around and kill Trina, that wench of a mother. That wretched human being that was allowed a child. This world destroyed people, herself included, but she had hoped that Lucas would survive his abuse, like she had. She'd hoped that he'd survive and become someone happy and healthy, due, in part, to her. She wanted to help him and she'd failed. Hope. It had tempted her with its beauty and suffocated her with its reality.

It was only after she saw signs for Miami that she felt like she could breathe. Pulling off the exit, she stopped for gas then bought a pre-pay phone at Wal-Mart in South Beach. As she was walking through the doors to leave she saw two girls-young, maybe sixteen-giggling and holding hands. It reminded her of Rachel. I will miss that. She missed Rachel already. Emery had always known that she needed Rachel and now she felt that loss in her bones. Tim was someone she wouldn't even allow herself to think about.

Before she got back on the highway, she stopped at a library and logged into Facebook as Romona Hicks. She typed out a message to Rachel.

From: Romona Hicks

To: Rachel Helms

R,.

This is the last time I'll check this page. I know you won't understand this, me leaving after everything you and Derrick have done for me. I just can't. I don't know how to live my life, or Emma's life, anymore. Please don't read this saying I'm going to do something stupid. I'm going to live through this, if you call what I'll be doing living. I thought what I had been through before was hard. I want to laugh at using that word to describe my life. Maybe tragic or disastrous is more appropriate. I just want to take the shambles of my life and hide away from anyone that I could hurt, especially you and Tim.

You saved my life too many times to count and you need to stop saving me, because I'm pretty sure it's a full time job. You've been saving me for years and this is me saving you. You deserve to live your life without worrying about the friend who poisons everything she touches. It's better this way. I'll be someone else, someone who wallows in their brokenness, because I won't have you to fix me, to lift me up, and make me feel like I can do this.

I don't deserve to have a life when I helped end my sister's. I love you, Rachel, and I'm letting you go. I'm okay. I'll be fine. The last favor I'll ask of you is to tell Tim that I love him and this is me loving him. I don't want to infect his world any more than I already have. He'll know that the person he fell in love with doesn't exist, that I'm a liar and a fraud. He'll move on and get through it.

I can already hear you cussing. You are the other pieces of me that made me whole. You're the good pieces, Rachel, and all that's left of me is a shipwreck.

Don't look for me. I don't want to be found. I don't want to be saved. I'm not worthy of it.

E.

Emery hit send and sat there, numb, trying to process the decisions she'd made in the last twenty-four hours. Her sister was gone. Lucas was gone. She walked out of the library and left Emery behind. She didn't exist anymore. Emery was dead just like everyone else in her family.

She only stopped twice on her ten hour drive before she pulled into the Sheraton overlooking Smathers Beach in Key West. She'd come here with her mother and sister years ago and it was a fun trip because Phil wasn't there. She paid cash for her room, which totally freaks people out these days, went to her room, and slept for days.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO.