• chapter twenty •  

I opened my eyes very, very slowly. A single beam of light came in through a small hole in front of me. I was lying on something hard and I couldn't breathe. It took me a whole minute to figure out where I was: I was still lying in the backyard of that hotel, underneath the stones and broken stuff. The beam of sunlight looked like it was late afternoon. I don't know what it is about sunlight; but to me it seems that you can just look at it and tell what time of the day it is.

I tried to lift my right arm to push some rubble away, and screamed. It hurt too much. It hurt like the way it had hurt when I'd fallen down from a tree and broken my arm. I made some breathing space by pushing stuff away with my left hand. A huge red blister extended from my elbow to my wrist. It really looked like afternoon, now that I could look at the sky clearly.

Three names came to my head then: Liam, Ashley, Zack. A huge wave of pain crashed into me. Liam was dead. I couldn't get the vision of his charred body lying next to the drinks table out of my head. Closing my eyes made it worse. I tried to focus on something else. Like, getting myself out of this mess.

Groaning, I propped myself up on my left elbow. I felt nauseous, but I held the vomit down by shutting my mouth tightly. Then a sound came to my ears. A lady's voice. And then other voices. Five people were roaming about. Two of them were carrying a stretcher. They looked like a medical team searching for survivors. I wanted to call out, but I was scared that if I opened my mouth I would puke all over myself. So I picked up a stone and threw it in their direction. The lady, probably the doctor, looked at me. "Hey! There's a girl over there." They came over.

"I think my—" I swallowed, "—right arm is broken."

"It's alright." She smiled at me and examined my arm slowly, taking care not to cause me more pain. Then she took out a syringe from the pocket of her white coat, and injected the yellow stuff into my shoulder. The other guys then lifted me gently out of the rubble and put me onto the stretcher. That felt better. "What's...the date?" I choked out.

Unable to control myself anymore, I leaned over the stretcher and retched. She stroked my back. I lay back down again. My eyelids were drooping, maybe because of the injection she'd given me.

"It's 25th of August."  

I noticed that I couldn't hear anything with my left ear. "I've been knocked out for two days?"

"Yes, sweetheart." She looked at me. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? When you wake up, you'll be in a nice, comfy bed. Everything's gonna be okay."

Nothing's gonna be okay. I couldn't ignore the huge hole inside me. I felt so incomplete, like something precious had gone missing. I closed my eyes. Whatever I did, it was there in the back of my mind: Liam is gone. He's not coming back.

I fell asleep, and when I woke again, it was night. I was lying in a hospital bed, my right arm was in a plaster, someone had put cream on the burn of my left arm, and my head was pounding. There were bandages on the cuts of my leg. I could feel a band-aid on my face, too. There were two other beds in the room, but the patients were sleeping. Both of them were girls. My bed was next to the window. I stared at the stars outside. Everything hurt—from my body to my brain to my heart. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional one. The inside of my chest felt like someone had dug their nails into me. A lump formed in my throat. The door of the room swung open and a nurse walked in. She saw me and smiled. "You're awake? That's good." A badge on her chest read 'Amanda, Uofl Health Care.'  "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible," I replied. The tears escaped and flowed down my cheeks.

"Hey." She squeezed my hand. "Don't cry. Should I get you something to eat?"

I shook my head, then nodded. Both my arms were hurt, so obviously she'd have to feed me, which would give me plenty of time to talk to her. Besides, I was hungry.

She got me chicken soup and buns. "My arm—" I started, but she cut me off. "I know." She started spooning the soup into my mouth. I waited for some time, then asked, "So. What happened after the blast?"

"After the blast? Hmm. Someone called 911. Lots of ambulances came and patients were taken to different hospitals, because there were too many to be accommodated in one. And there were firetrucks, obviously, and cops too. Police say that it was probably a terrorist attack, and more such blasts might happen. I think a curfew will be imposed. Investigation is going on. And we are sending teams to the ruins to dig out dead bodies and look for survivors." She looked at me. "It's a miracle you survived, you know. You're very lucky."

"Lucky?" I repeated. "I'm lucky?" The tears fell faster. "Everyone I loved is dead. My boyfriend and my best friends, all three of them are dead, as far as I know. I wish I'd died with them."

"Don't talk like that."

"Why not? My boyfriend..." I couldn't continue after that because of the expression on her face.

"Boys come and go all the time. It will get better."

I stared at her. Did she really just say that? I was about to go into bitch mode and insult her, but then I realized that I shouldn't, because I was going to need her later.

"Maybe they're not dead. Did you see their bodies?"

I shook my head. I could see where this was going.

"Then how do you know they are dead?"

I opened my mouth to answer. Nothing came out.

"See? You don't know for sure that they're dead. You've just assumed so."

A thought struck me. I leaned forward and took her hand. "Could you do something for me?" I asked.

"Of course."

"Could you go down to the reception and check your records for the names Liam Samuels, Ashley Samuels and Zack Anderson?"

"Sure." She picked up the empty tray and stood up. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Hazel Jones."

"Okay." She exited the room. I looked out through the window again, and thought about my birthday. How was I ever going to live without him?

Amanda came back. I looked at her. She shook her head. "Their names aren't there."

I took a deep breath and lied back on the pillow.

"Don't worry. Maybe they're in some other hospital. Or maybe they're here, but they haven't been identified yet."

"Or maybe they're dead," I muttered. "Where's my phone?"

"Your phone? It got damaged due to the heat. It sort of... melted. We had to throw it away."

She sat on the edge of my bed and took my hand. "Do you want me to call your parents?"

"My parents?" I asked, shocked. "They're here?"

"No, but if you give me their numbers, I can call them and let them know you're here. They must be worried about you."

"Oh," I said. "Oh. Um. They don't live with me. They live in India. I'm here on an art scholarship."

"Okay. Is there anyone else I can call?"

I thought for a while. "There's one person."

"Sam!" I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "When did you come?"

She was sitting next to my bed. "A while ago." Her brown eyes searched my face. "How are you feeling?" she asked, putting her hand on mine.

"Numb," I mumbled, and looked at her.

"They're going to discharge you soon, in like, five days. You're very lucky, you know. You were in that blast and then you were buried for 2 days, but you got away with some burns and a broken arm. You're not hurt much."

"I'm very much hurt."

She raised her eyebrows. I started to tell her about Liam and Ash and Zack, but then I didn't. I just told her that I was sleepy, and she nodded and let me doze off.

∞

"Come on!" Sam said, walking into my room. I had been examining my dirty fingernails. I looked up now. "We're going home!" She was trying to be cheerful, but I wasn't in the mood. I was too tired. After that I must've gone to the bathroom and changed, because when I looked at myself I found the hospital robe gone. Amanda combed my hair and tied them up in a knot. I sat in Sam's car quietly. I just couldn't focus on anything but on reaching home and beginning the search for Liam. I wasn't going to relax till I'd found him.

A while later, Sam stopped in front of my house and helped me stagger to my bedroom. "My laptop is over there," I said, nodding my head towards the study table. "Can you pass it to me?"

"Look, why don't you rest—" she started, but I interrupted her.

"I don't want to rest, Sam. Please."

"Hazel, I don't understand. You've just been discharged—"

I looked straight into her eyes. "I'm madly in love with him, Sam, and he's my life. I have to find him."

She sighed. "Fine." She brought me the laptop, and opened it and typed for me, since I couldn't do so myself. She brought out a list of hospitals in Louisville, and looked at me questioningly. "Well?"

"I'm going to call all of them, and ask if they have a patient named Liam Samuels."

She picked up the phone. "I'll do that for you." She dialed and lifted the phone to her ear. "Hello? Kentucky One Health Centre? Yeah, I just wanted to know if you have any patient named Liam Samuels. From that blast in the Galt House Hotel." There was a pause. "He has brownish hair and high cheekbones, grey eyes. He's around six feet." She looked at me for confirmation. I nodded fervently. "No? Alright. Thank you."

I bit my lip in disappointment and looked down. "You know," Sam said after five more unsuccessful calls, "maybe they haven't identified him yet. Maybe they have his body somewhere, but they just don't know who he is."

"Don't say 'body'," I snapped.

"Sorry. I mean, maybe they have him somewhere, but they don't know his identity."

"How is that possible? He must have told them their name."

"No. He could still be unconscious. Or...you know..." Her voice became really soft, "he could be in a coma."

My heart stopped beating as I even imagined that. "How will I find him, Sam?" My voice cracked. I blinked my eyes really fast, trying to hold back tears. I didn't want to cry again. My throat was hurting and swollen already. "Can I go to the hospitals and look at everyone and identify him? Please?"

She shook her head. "I doubt they will let you do that. If he's so hurt that he hasn't even woken up yet, then he's probably in the ICU. They won't let you go in. Only family members can do that."

I exhaled and fell back onto the pillows, staring at the ceiling. Then I stared some more. And some more. There was a very small crack in the plaster. What had happened to him? Did he have burns all over his body? Maybe his leg had blown off? No. I shoved those thoughts away. "His dad," I said, sitting up suddenly. "Where is his dad? He might know where Liam is. He might've found him." I snatched the phone from Sam and dialed Mr. Samuels' number. It rang three times, four times, five times, six times...nobody picked up. I called again. Still, no one answered. "Sam, I need to go to Liam's house."

"You can't, Hazel."

"Please. Please, Sam. I'll sit in the car. I won't get out. You can ring the bell and talk to him, alright? Please."

She clicked her tongue I annoyance. "Fine. Come." She helped me out of bed. Walking was difficult, because bandage was wrapped around both of my knees and that meant I couldn't fold them. I hobbled to her car and sat down. We drove to Liam's house. I closed my eyes and prayed. I didn't know who I was praying to; I didn't really believe in God, but I just prayed. She rang the bell. No one answered. She rang it five more times, and still no one opened the door. So she came back. "Looks like nobody's home."

"Maybe his dad has gone to visit him in the hospital. Maybe he'll come back at night. I will talk to him tomorrow."

"Was his dad at the party with you?" Sam asked.

"I guess. I don't know. He organized it."

"Then maybe he got injured too. Maybe he's also in some hospital."

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish but no words came out. "No," I said finally. "No. I will come here again tomorrow. He will be there."

Sam raised her eyebrows at me.

"Look, if you don't want to help me, that's fine. I'll come here by myself."

She rolled her eyes and started the car. "Yeah, right."

I leaned my forehead against the cool window. It hurt so much. Everything hurt.

Night was falling. The horizon was a deep blue which faded into the black of the sky above. I rolled down the window and poked my head outside, hoping the fresh air would lift my mood.

It seemed like all the bad luck in the world came to me at nightfall. Why? What had I even done to deserve this?

"So...um...I heard you got accepted at NYU!" Sam said. And that made me want to cry all over again. "I'm... not... going anywhere... without Liam," I said through gritted teeth.

She got the hint and didn't try to speak to me after that. She dropped me home and made dinner for me, and then I felt so guilty that I hugged her and apologized for my rudeness, and she smiled and said it was okay. She tucked me into bed and said that she'd come in the morning, and left after I made her promise that we'd search for Liam again.

I woke up late the next day. Sunshine was pouring in from the window. I was still feeling tired. My throat hurt. I rubbed away the crust from my eyes and sat up slowly, and dragged myself to the bathroom. With one hand I changed my clothes and brushed my teeth, and when I came out, Sam was sitting on the bed. She had the spare key to my house. "Hi," she said, and then frowned at me. "Why are you all dressed up?"

"Because I want to go to Liam's house and if his dad isn't there, I'm gonna go to every single hospital in Louisville and ask for him."

"That's ridiculous," she said, earning a glare from me. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry," I replied, even though I was. "Let's go."

She knew it was pointless to argue, so she just got up and exited the room, and I followed. No one answered Liam's door, and to be honest, I was expecting it, but that didn't hurt any less. And then we went to the hospitals. So many, that now it seems like a blur of names.

The first hospital said that they had no one named Liam Samuels. I gave them a photograph, and the lady at the reception called a nurse, gave her the photo and asked her to find out if they had any patient like that. The nurse looked annoyed, as if she'd been given too much work, and she came back in 15 minutes, which immediately made me suspicious. She couldn't have checked properly if she had come back so early. "Can I go and check for myself?" I asked, and the receptionist said, "No, ma'am, you can't."

The second hospital had some posters on the outside wall, with pictures of some dead bodies, appealing for identification. Heart beating fast, I looked at them. I saw a picture of Luke there, but not Liam. I released the breath I didn't realize I had been holding and went in.

The receptionist was again a lady, and on her computer she pulled up pictures of all the patients they had and let me go through them. Liam wasn't there.

I thanked her and hobbled out quietly with Sam.

The third hospital didn't have pictures, and they didn't have any Liam Samuels. But they let me go to some rooms and look at the patients. I couldn't go to the ICUs, even though I desperately wanted to. I had a hunch that he was in an ICU, because he was inside the building when it blew up. He must've been gravely injured. Just thinking about it made my chest tighten with worry.

I didn't recognize any of the patients.

Sam took me to a roadside diner and forced me to eat a hotdog. It took forever because I ate with my left hand, but I was grateful for the break because my legs were paining.

We went to the other hospitals. It was the same story everywhere: they didn't have Liam or Ashley or Zack, and I couldn't find Liam's dad anywhere. When the sun was setting and the birds were flying homewards, I got an idea. I asked Sam to drive me to Zack's house. I rang the bell and waited outside, and Zack's tiny mom opened the door. She looked tired, just like me. "Hello, Hazel," she said softly, looking at my plastered arm.

"Hi, um, Mrs. Anderson," I answered. "I was just wondering if...um...you know where Zack is..." My voice trailed off.

"Come in," she said, trying to smile a little. She turned around and started walking, and I followed her to Zack's bedroom. He was lying on his bed, one leg inside the comforter, and one leg out, which was covered in burns. Some had healed, but most of them were red and raw. It hurt to even look at him. He was wearing boxers. He looked up as I entered. "Reddie! You're okay!"

"I guess," I replied, hugging him and sitting on the edge of the bed. His mom shut the door and left us alone. "So," I said. "Do you have any idea where Ash and Liam are?"

He shook his head. "No. They kept me under anesthesia and I was unconscious for, like, five days. Then I woke up and told them my address and I got discharged the next day. On 29th, I think. And my leg is hurting like shit. If it doesn't get better in a week, I'll have to get admitted again. And I've been looking for them both. The problem is that I'm not a family member. And Ash and Liam...both of them only have Liam's dad, and I don't know where he is, either. I don't know how I'll find them. I don't even know if they're alive." A tear rolled down his cheek. I took his hand. "I want her back, Hazel," he said. He'd called me Hazel. He'd never done that before. I wiped his tear. "I love her. And I never told her. I'd always said that I liked her, that she was beautiful, and I kissed her a lot, and I did stuff for her, but I never told her I loved her. 'Love' is a big word, you know. It's a promise. But I wish I'd said it."

I hugged him. "She knows. And you can tell her when you find her."

"For how long have you been looking for them?"

"Today's the second day. I got discharged yesterday, 30th August."

He gave me a soft push. "Go. Keep looking. Call me at night, okay?"

"Okay," I kissed his cheek and walked out.

We could make it to just two more hospitals before night fell.

"I hope you know," Sam said, as she was preparing dinner for us, and I was seated at the round table, "that you have to move out of this house in two days?"

"Great," I said. She put a hot French toast in front of me. "Thanks, Sam. You're the most understanding and sympathetic person I know."

She smiled. "You can live with me if you want. Till you get a grip on things, you know."

"I don't want to trouble you too much."

"No, that's fine. I like you so I don't mind."

And so I stayed with her. I kept on searching, but I never found him. I packed my bags, and kept them in the guest bedroom of Sam's house. I never unpacked them. I searched some more. The plaster on my right arm got removed. September had started already, and ten days had passed. But I hadn't found him. And I was starting to think that I never would find him. That there was nothing to be found.

Sam told me to let it go. And I did. For a week. After that again I begged her to take me around the city to all hospitals. She did. I never found him.

Was this how our story was going to end?

When we were coming back, we passed my old house— the scholarship house. I asked her if I could go there for a minute. I just wanted to see it again. She let me.

I got out of the car; walked around the house. Dead leaves crunched under my feet as I stepped on them. The yard was full of them. I liked them: they were red and orange and yellow. A soft wind picked them up and scattered them further down the road.

As I went round, I saw my bedroom window which I used to love because of the sunlight streaming in and the sunset which I saw from there.

I went to the back of the house, and saw that dark brown wooden porch where Liam and I had sat on my birthday. That memory, the image of us sitting there— it came to me suddenly, and it was so sharp and real that my eyes welled up. For a moment, I could smell his skin, feel his touch, hear his laughter. It caught me off-guard. And then it went away.

I sat down. How was I going to live without him? I couldn't. I couldn't go to New York without him. I didn't even want to. All those dreams of living there in a cozy little home with a good job— those dreams held no meaning if he wasn't there in them with me.

I couldn't live here without him. I couldn't live here at all.

Sam came looking for me and saw me crying. She sat down next to me. "All well?"

I leaned my head on her shoulder. "Sam, I... I have to go back."  

  ∞