You're Back
You're Back
It has been a day.
A day since Addy attempted.
A day since my baby nearly died.
A day since my heart shattered into pieces.
The world outside keeps moving, but mine has stopped. Everything feels slow, heavy—like I'm trapped underwater, suffocating in an ocean of grief and fear. My kids are my everything. If I could take her place, bear her pain, and make all of this disappear, I would do it in a heartbeat. No hesitation. No second thoughts.
But there are so many unknowns right now.
And I can't breathe through the uncertainty.
I just want someone to tell me she'll be okay. That she'll pull through without complications. That she'll wake up, look at me with those big, bright eyes, and say, Mom, I'm okay.
But no one can promise me that.
My mom called the rest of the family last night, breaking the news in the gentlest way she could. Dad and Finneas are coming today. I don't know how I feel about that. Maybe I want them here. Maybe I don't. Nothing makes sense anymore.
Mom took Sadie home this morning to rest, but I'm not leaving.
Not now. Not ever.
Not until Addy leaves, one way or another.
I can't even bring myself to think about the other way.
I run my fingers gently over her hand, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. She doesn't react. The machines do everything for her, making sure she keeps breathing, making sure her heart keeps beating. I watch her chest rise and fall in perfect rhythm, but it's not her. It's the machines.
I feel so helpless.
I should've protected her from this. I should've known.
But I didn't. And now she's here, trapped between life and death, and I can't do anything except wait.
The door creaks open.
I look up.
Finneas stands in the doorway, his eyes immediately landing on Addy. His expression crumbles, and I swear, in all the years I've known him, I have never seen my brother look this broken.
Claudia stands behind him, her face pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. She looks sad too, but Finneas... he's devastated.
I know he loves Addy. We all do. But there's always been something special about their bond.
She's his favorite, even if he never says it out loud.
He steps into the room slowly, as if the weight of what he's seeing is too much to bear. He comes to sit beside me, his hands clasped together so tightly that his knuckles turn white.
Claudia clears her throat softly. "Do you need anything, Billie? From home? Are you hungry?"
Hungry?
I haven't even thought about food. My stomach has been a hollow, twisted mess since that night.
"No, thanks. I'm fine."
She hesitates but nods, then takes a seat beside us.
And so we sit.
Silent.
Watching Addy's chest rise and fall, rise and fall.
Two days later...
I feel like I'm floating through time.
The hours blur together. I haven't slept much, and when I do, it's in short, restless bursts. My phone has been off for most of the time, but for the first time in days, I decide to check it.
Instagram.
I scroll aimlessly, my feed flooded with messages, fan edits, and endless speculation. My fans are detectives, piecing things together, trying to guess why I've disappeared.
If only they knew.
I tap on an edit of me and the girls. It's soft, warm—something that should bring me comfort. But it doesn't.
Because Addy isn't here.
And then—
Movement.
My breath catches in my throat.
I shoot my eyes up.
Addy's hand— it moved.
At first, I think I imagined it, but then I see it—her fingers twitch against her stomach. A tiny, almost imperceptible movement, but it's there.
"Oh my God."
The chair screeches against the floor as I jump up. My heart is racing, pounding so hard I feel it in my ears.
I slam my hand against the call nurse button.
The door swings open almost immediately, the doctor stepping in, his expression unreadable.
"What's happening?" he asks quickly.
"She moved!" I squeal, my voice breaking.
He rushes to her side, his eyes locked on her tiny, trembling fingers. And then—another twitch.
I grab her hand.
It's warm.
Tears spill down my cheeks, but for the first time, they're not from devastation. They're from hope.
"You're back."
My voice shakes, but I don't care.
She's back.