Chapter Twenty-One

The Sanctity Of Healing

Savannah was sick of hospitals.

Even as a child, she’d despised them. She was well aware of the fact that yes, they were necessary and without them the world would be a dangerous place, and that the work the nurses and doctors did was amazing and took an incredible amount of patience, dedication, and skill.

Regardless, they were melancholic places of death and loss, and every time she seemed to end up here, it was never her that was suffering, but a member of her family - something she’d switch in a heartbeat. Even Savannah’s first appearance in a hospital - her birth - had been traumatic and unpleasant; for Lyra especially. Savannah had come into the world upside down and with a copious amount of blood because she had to be awkward. So, the hatred of hospitals was innate and hereditary.

In fairness, it hadn’t been just her born upside down; both Alexis and Theo had been. Aaron had been the lone ‘normal’ birth.

As it was, Savannah stood by in the A+E waiting room with a heavy heart, jingling legs, and - because she’d been tugging them so much - chafed earlobes. Alexis and Lauren were with her, white as snow. The former had attempted to get in touch with Aaron while in the ambulance, to no reply. Over an hour later, he still hadn’t contacted them. Not that they noticed - they suspected he’d be out of his mind on alcohol and whatever else and was the least of their worries, so pushed him out of their minds.

‘Is this it, then?’ Alexis asked, both her leg and voice trembling. ‘Is mum next? I’m barely over Theo…’

Savannah gave a fierce head shake. ‘No. No. She will not die. She’s been here before, more than once, and she’s survived every time. This time will not be any different.’

Alexis shook her head. She ground her teeth. ‘This time feels different. She’s not been this bad for as long as this…’ A tear streaked down her immaculate features, smudging her mascara. She gazed off into the corner, speaking no more. Lauren placed a comforting arm around her and Savannah grasped her hand.

Savannah herself refused to cry. She wouldn’t do it. Part of her recognised that yes, Lyra might not make it. She repressed this part with all her might, flat out refusing to entertain it. This wouldn’t be the end for Lyra. She was meant to live out her days, meet her grandchildren, become one of the most successful lawyers in the country… if Savannah could hang onto that future for Lyra, then Lyra could fight for it.

They sat silent for half an hour, each minute ticking by like it was moving through treacle. The walking pace of the orderlies, the movement of the patients… even the odd cough or sneeze from those surrounding them appeared delayed and lethargic.

The dire moment arrived.

‘Savannah Glasco-Mason?’

Savannah groaned and felt her heart flutter before it dropped into the pit of her stomach. This was another of those occasions she both ached for an answer, yet the question came with a massive foreboding that she’d prefer to avoid. She walked over to the nurse with Lauren and Alexis in tow.

The nurse was the same who had dealt with them when Theo and Alexis had been here a lifetime ago. Through no fault of the nurse, she was becoming one of Savannah’s least favourite people; her own personal omen of death. The nurse’s greying hair hung around her jawline in a bob cut. Her glasses were perched on the end of her nose and in her hands she held a clipboard. This culminated in a striking resemblance to a school inspector.

‘Bless you, my angels. I’m sorry to see you again so soon.’

Alexis waved her hand. ‘Yeah, yeah, can we skip that shit and get to the bit where you tell us how our mum’s doing?’

The nurse frowned, then the lines on her face reduced in severity. ‘Of course, dear. I’m afraid… god, more doom and gloom for you poor girls. She’s alive. Just. But not conscious. Had to put her in a medically induced coma to prevent her condition worsening.’

Savannah sagged against Lauren. Alexis’s nostrils flared. ‘And what is her condition?’

The nurse peered over her glasses, soft and pitying. ‘Bad. Liver failed, kidneys failing, had a heart attack… blood is severely deoxygenated… thankfully, by falling unconscious when she did and not drinking even more, she’s extended her time on this earth slightly… but… god, girls, I hate to do this to you again, but she’s not going to get better, most likely. Brain has shown signs of a stroke, and this has caused irreparable damage. But,’ she sighed and looked away. ‘There’s both good news and bad news.’

Alexis glowered through her tears. ‘Just tell us.’

‘The good news is if she can hang on - that being, just for a few more days - we should be able to get her organ transplants. The bad news… if she can, which… it’s unlikely… there’s no guarantee it will be sufficient. The damage to her heart and brain suggest… it won’t be.’

‘So? You don’t expect her to survive?’ Lauren said, her body frozen.

The nurse shook her head. ‘I’m sorry dears. God love you, you’ve been through enough. But no.’

Savannah fought to find her voice. ‘Can we see her? Please?’

The nurse looked like she was going to argue, but turned around. ‘Come this way.’

She led them through the hospital hallways, a sight Savannah felt all too familiar with now. The nurse hurried ahead of Alexis who took furious strides; Savannah lagged behind, Lauren’s arm over her shoulders.

Savannah felt weak. Desperate. Sick. Numb. She didn’t pay heed to where they were going, too lost in the labyrinth of her mind. She let the nurse guide Lauren and Lauren guide her.

It couldn’t be happening again. Not so soon after Theo. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. She wasn’t supposed to deal with her mother dying for at least another thirty years. How was this fair on Lyra? All Savannah had seen her do was suffer. And, just when her life was starting to blossom like the birth of a new orchid, it had rotted away before it could reach more than a partial bloom.

It seemed only yesterday, and yet so long ago, that Lyra had announced she was divorcing Jeremy, the architect of every painful experience she’d had over the past two decades. Lyra was lighter. She was free. And now, once more, she was trapped in a prison she couldn’t escape from. On this occasion, however, the jailer wasn’t her husband. Her mind was both the jailer and the cell, the lock a combination not even she herself could find the key to.

They arrived at Lyra’s bedside in a private bay, where she was alone with only the laboured beeping of her life support machine to keep her company. Her closed eyelids were surrounded by red and purple rings. Her veins were violet and visible in her cheeks. Her complexion was grey and blue as if she’d been out in the cold too long. In her hospital gown, her frail frame was evident - her arms didn’t fill out a quarter of the width of the sleeves.

The nurse left the room and closed the door. Savannah slipped into a chair beside Lyra’s bed, lost for words. Her heart was broken. Her blank gaze was locked on Lyra’s dying face, to which a ventilator was strapped. That Lyra looked at peace, for a change, went over her head.

Alexis clambered into Lyra’s bed and cuddled into her. All anger had dissipated from her. Now she was vulnerable, hurt, and childlike (three things Alexis never had been, even as an infant). The prospect of losing Lyra was one Alexis couldn’t come to terms with. She couldn’t be strong. She couldn’t be angry. She let her tears fall, embracing Lyra in a vice.

Lauren, tearful herself, shuddered and held Savannah’s hand. Lyra had taken her in as one of her own. She couldn’t not be hurt. 157 years old or not, a loss was a loss and they all felt the same. They never got any easier. Not that she’d ever tell Savannah that.

‘I won’t lose you,’ Alexis whispered, voice breaking. Her hand tightened at Lyra’s side, gripping a fistful of her robe. ‘You’re not allowed to leave. I’ve lost more than enough. I won’t let you go, too. I had to go on instead of Theo. Pl-please don’t make me go on instead of you too.’

Alexis released her mother’s gown. She looked up at and stroked her cheek. ‘Come back to us. Don’t give up. Keep fighting.’

The hand with which Alexis stroked Lyra emitted a bright, pure, white light from each fingertip. Her brow furrowed, clearing in the same moment. She knew what to do, though not how or why.

Alexis placed her fingertips on Lyra’s temple. The light spread from her fingers and flowed into Lyra, extending along her temple, down her face, through her jugular. Within seconds, each vein was glowing white.

Lyra’s eyes snapped open.

*

‘Wh-What’s going on?’ Lyra said, removing the ventilator with a grimace. She pushed herself into a sitting position and scanned her surroundings. ‘Where am I?’

Alexis jerked upright, removing herself from Lyra’s body. ‘Mum?’

‘What are you all doing here? What am I doing here?’ The monitor’s beeping intensified, Lyra’s heart rate increasing, even as her skin began rapidly regaining its colour.

Savannah held Lyra’s hand, frantic eyes darting between Lyra and Alexis. ‘Hey, hey, it’s okay, mum. You’re in the hospital.’

‘Eh?’ Lyra’s head snapped to Savannah. ‘Hospital? Why? How did I get here? When did I get here?’

‘A couple hours ago. You weren’t… you weren’t very well, basically. You wouldn’t wake up.’

Lyra’s brow furrowed. ‘That doesn’t make sense. I feel fine…’

‘What’s the last thing you remember?’ Lauren asked, leaning forward in her chair and placing a hand on Lyra’s leg. Lyra sat back, studying the ceiling. The beeping eased.

‘I… I don’t really know. Time… time lost all meaning. Last thing I remember… I was in my bed… I’d had a bit to drink… that’s all I can remember. But that could have been today… or it could have been two weeks ago… I don’t-’

‘How do you feel?’ Alexis asked. Worry lines gathered in her forehead.

‘I mean… physically, I feel good…’ A shadow passed over her as everything she’d been feeling flowed into her at once. Her arms dropped to her sides. The initial hyperactivity waned, replaced with her usual, lethargic demeanour. The monitor’s beeping slowed further. Savannah felt a tug in her gut as she watched it happen.

‘Mentally?’

Lyra’s voice became weak. ‘I don’t want… god damn it, I don’t want to be okay. What have they done? Why have I recovered? What did they give me?!’ She looked at the machinery. ‘There’s no drip… there should be a drip.’

Alexis opened her mouth. Savannah considered jumping in, but Lauren got there before her.

‘I don’t know, I’ll bring the nurse in. They can do their tests, check you out, and you can ask them. Then, hopefully, we’ll be able to get you home soon. We’re gonna get some drinks while they work, okay?’

Lyra made no response. Lauren signalled to Savannah and a frowning Alexis to follow her. The three hugged Lyra - she didn’t return them, whether through unwillingness or lack of energy - and vacated the room, sending in the nurse, who proceeded to summon further nurses and a doctor.

The girls made their way to the coffee shop. Savannah and Alexis took seats while Lauren went to the counter to get their drinks. Neither spoke. Savannah monitored Alexis’s every twitch. What was she thinking? What did it mean? Was she now going to find out the truth and join Savannah with The Seven? Or was she going to repress the abilities she had, and continue as normal, shunning the truth?

A minute or two later, Lauren rejoined them and handed them coffees. She leaned over, speaking in a low murmur. ‘Alex… I know that you might want to, but you can never tell Lyra - or anyone else, for that matter - the truth. We have to pretend we have no idea what happened. In front of her, the nurses, everyone.’

Alexis's gaze glided to Lauren’s. She sighed, exhausted. ‘What was that? What happened? I don’t understand...’

Lauren shook her head. ‘Now isn’t the time or the place. When your mum is safe and back at home, I promise I will explain everything.’

‘Why can’t I tell her? I did it…’ Alexis said, quiet as a mouse.

‘Because it would overcomplicate things. Imagine-’ Lauren looked around, double-checking there was no one in earshot, and leaned across the table. ‘Imagine you told your mum you basically brought her back from the brink of death with a white light that came out of you. Do you think she’d believe you? Or would she freak out, lose her shit, and think you’re insane?’

Alexis buried her head in her hands. ‘You’re right. I don’t… I don’t understand what happened. I can’t explain it.’

Savannah reached out, resting her hand on Alexis's arm. ‘You don’t have to. We’ll figure it out, okay?’

They remained there for a further hour, sipping at their drinks, each immersed in the sludge of their thoughts. Then, they got up, disposed of their cups and made their way back to Lyra, bracing themselves for the medical staff’s disbelief.

Savannah and Alexis sat by Lyra, who was wide awake (but refusing to move or speak), while Lauren stood in the corner, out of the way, her arms crossed, and monitored every part of Lyra’s body.

The nasal-sounding nurse returned to the bay. A slim doctor with brown hair cropped short and a thin chin-strap beard towered behind her. His lab coat covered a black suit, and thick, heavy, military-grade boots thumped on the ground as he entered the room.

The doctor gave them a tight smile, his chin elevated. His eyes merely glossed over each of them, giving the impression that they were barely worth a second of his time.

‘This is Dr Montgomery,’ the nurse said. ‘Once again… can’t explain what’s happened. Your family must have some gene that accelerates healing.’ She gave a small chuckle. No one joined in. Montgomery inclined his head, hurrying her along.

‘Er- yes, Dr Montgomery will take you through things.’ The nurse scurried from the room.

‘Hello, girls. Quite the medical enigma your family is proving. Shame about the young one, though.’ Montgomery moved over to Lyra and crouched at her bedside, trailing his fingers along her temples. ‘It’s... miraculous, really. No signs of damage. Which, considering that a short time ago this lady before you was almost completely destroyed in a physical sense, is rather incredible.’

He stood back up. Lauren followed Montgomery’s movements, her eyes unblinking.

‘Her body is in perfect working order. We’re keeping her in for monitoring tonight. Provided everything goes smoothly - which I fully expect it to, naturally - you can take her home. We are as yet unable to find anything in our tests that would dictate an explanation for her recovery. Except… some form of hormone, or drug, or chemical… we can’t identify what form it takes, nor what the substance is or does, but… her blood results show that something foreign has entered her system, leading me to conclude this is the reason for her recovery. I’m going to isolate the substance and study it intently, of course - after all, this is a unique case the like of which the world has never seen - but you can make my life a lot easier. Did you girls give your mother anything? Any medication? Any food? Drink?’

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Savannah and Alexis shook their heads without looking up from Lyra.

‘Obviously not,’ Lauren snapped. She stepped forward and stood straight, eyes slits. ‘She was unconscious and strapped to a ventilator. There was no way we could have administered anything. So, what, she’s a test subject to you now? If you think you’re going to put her through the torture of a night of endless examinations, you can think again.’

Montgomery’s smile faltered. ‘No, the patient will remain undisturbed for the duration of her stay. I have all I need. Well… almost all I need.’

‘What do you mean, almost?’

‘Which of you is Alexis?’

Alexis looked up. ‘M-Me.’

‘I understand a similar thing happened to you, correct?’

Alexis nodded, shooting a sideways glance at Savannah and Lauren.

Montgomery’s smile returned. ‘We appear to have disposed of your blood work. May I take another sample or two? For the purpose of comparing it to your mother’s and establishing... several things.’

Lauren stepped in front of Alexis, blocking her from Montgomery. His lip curled. ‘No, you may not. She isn’t your patient. You have all you’re going to get from us.’

‘As you wish,’ Montgomery said, an edge to his voice. ‘Well, whatever the case, thank goodness your mother has recovered. I wonder just how many more lives your family has remaining.’ He turned on his heel and strode from the room, his boots stomping on the ground.

*

Lyra had been home for two days. She felt worse than ever.

Her body had been in perfect working order since she had left the hospital. However, immediately upon re-entering her house, she had returned to her bed and remained motionless with no wish to do otherwise.

Whatever it was that the doctors did to or gave her - and they were adamant they hadn’t done anything to aid her, whatever the evidence suggested - worked and brought her back from the state of near-death she’d plunged herself into.

Lyra had intended to die, but failed, simply succeeding in getting to the verge of death. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Lyra recognised she had a tendency to go overboard on self-pity and that it caused her to neglect the needs of her children, to leave them to fend for themselves. She couldn’t avoid the knowledge that this behaviour wasn’t fair on them. That ate away at her, which in turn increased her self-pity, which increased her neglect. It was a vicious cycle from which she couldn’t free herself. Yet.

As she sat at her desk applying her makeup over her moisturised, glowing skin, she felt aggrieved at how unfair life had been to her. She didn’t want to live anymore; life was too painful, like her mind was being constantly ground beneath the wheel of a bus, and she couldn’t survive knowing that Theo was no longer around… that his life had been taken away from him so young… that she’d never see the young boy who flashed through her mind at every free second…

The irony wasn’t lost on her that life, which she felt was so horrific and unjust, still found a way to entrap her even when she’d tried to escape it and all its accompanying heartache.

Regardless, she was adamant she would succeed next time. Aaron, Alexis, and Savannah would manage better without her, without the burden she presented looming over them like the Grim Reaper, without the dark cloud they lived with knowing their mother was in a state of sheer, unparalleled pain…

A long time ago, when Jeremy was the sole source of her misfortune and misery, it was far easier. At least she’d been able to hang onto her children’s need for her and her need for them, using it to propel herself out of the depths of her despair.

This was different. Her surviving children were thriving on their own and would continue to do so when she was gone. Theo called to her. He needed his mother, wherever he was now, and she intended to give him that. More than that, she needed him. She needed to be reunited with her baby and give him the care he needed. Even if that was in death, rather than life.

The others would do better without her. She was a burden that decreased their quality of life and their lives would flourish and blossom without her. She’d done all she was capable of for them. She’d given her all. Now, it was time.

There was one more thing she had to do beforehand. One more person she had to interact with. One final time.

*

Lyra walked into the prison as though she owned the place, her last vestiges of strength and energy drained in the task of putting on a façade. She needed to do this and she wasn’t going to entertain any questions of her mental health while doing it, so she did what she’d done so many times before in her profession - she summoned what little vitality she had and used it to disguise the irreversible pain she was feeling.

Spurring her on was the bizarre serenity that came with knowing this would be among the last things she’d ever do. The penultimate act in her story.

Lyra had called beforehand, informing the prison she was working on the case of the person she was visiting - which, of course, she wasn’t - and was new to it, so desired to interview the perpetrator before their trial. It was all easier than it should have been. Perhaps this was simply another flaw in an inherently damaged justice system.

She was guided by a scrawny young guard to the interview room. His hair was sandy and his face acne-ridden; he couldn’t have been long out of education.

‘Want me to wait ‘ere?’ he said in a wheezy voice, gesturing to the wall opposite the door.

Lyra gave him a slim smile. ‘No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you, though. I won’t be long.’

‘Right-o. Well, you know where I am,’ he said, already turning and walking back.

Lyra placed her hand on the door handle. She retracted it, steeled herself, her hands shaking, and gripped the handle again.

‘You need this,’ she muttered to herself. She swung open the door.

Her heart lurched and her stomach flipped at the sight of him.

Jeremy sat cuffed to the table, a toothy, self-satisfied grin on his unshaven, dishevelled face. His beer belly was reduced. His small, foul, watery eyes were rimmed with black, and the burst veins in his cheeks were more numerous than ever.

‘Well, well, well… look ‘oo it is,’ Jeremy said.

Lyra sat in the chair opposite him and felt her body sag. The professional, uptight attitude she’d arrived with melted away. In his presence, she was stripped away to the true, vulnerable side of her. Theo was washed away in a mental cascade of experiences she’d shared with Jeremy, both good and bad, and she was struck heaviest by the realisation of just how different their lives could have been. Should have been. If she’d married the man she thought he was.

‘Hello,’ Lyra said, her voice a squeak.

‘‘Ow come it’s taken yi’ so long?’

She ran her tongue along her teeth. ‘After all you’ve done? You killed my mother and attacked my daughter. You really think I was in any rush to see you? Absolutely not. I’m here for me, not for you.’

Jeremy’s grin faded. ‘I didn’ kill your mother. I’ll main’ain tha’ till me dying day. Savannah, on the other han’... well, she’s a strange one. Yi’ wan’ to watch out for her, I tell yi’. So, to wha’ do I owe the delight of your company?’

Lyra squirmed in her chair. ‘I just… I wanted to talk, I suppose.’

Jeremy scowled and slumped back in his seat. ‘So, ain’ here to ge’ me ou’?’

She shook her head and rather like a child who’d been told he couldn’t have a toy he wanted for Christmas, Jeremy screwed his face up. ‘Well, yi’ may as well leave, then. I ‘ave no interes’ in talkin’ of anythin’ else.’

‘Once again, Jeremy, I’m here for me, not for you,’ Lyra’s voice was stronger, spurred on by the realisation he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted - nothing new there. ‘Did you have any form of affection or value towards us? Your family? Your wife?’

Jeremy didn’t answer. He stared at her, his tongue lolling in the corner of his lips.

‘I mean, after all this time we’ve shared, I’d have hoped that at the very least you’d love me somewhat. If not my kids, fine, while that’s horrendous in and of itself, it’d be marginally easier if I knew that you at least loved me. I know you had no great love for my mother, and I despise you for killing her - no matter how fervently you deny it. The same goes for what you did to Savannah. In fact, all my kids. But… some irrational part of me feels like it needs to know you love me. It would make everything that much easier. Heavens, maybe I’d even visit you in prison. Maybe I’d hang around just a little longer. If you could be the man I once believed you to be. I see now that was… just an illusion… I see that you’ve never been that man. That man only existed inside my mind.’ Lyra choked on a minute laugh. ‘Can’t blame a girl for hoping, though, can you?’

Jeremy remained silent for a moment, considering her words. Then he grinned again and leaned towards her, his voice dripping with causticity. ‘Tha’s what this is abou’? Validation? Ha! Yi’ve come to the wron’ place. I see no ‘arm in… confessin’... not now. I’m gonna be stuck ‘ere, ‘int I? No, I never loved yi’,’ he spat on the floor, grinning wider than ever.

‘All I ever though’ abou’ was what I could get from yi’. I was given a task to do, and yi’ were the person I chose. Coulda’ been anyone. Nothin’ more. Love never came into i’. I di’ my duty. Problem was, I didn’ realise I’d ‘ave to ‘ang around. ‘Ave to cope with yi’ bein’ so damn miserable all the time. ‘Ad I known wha’ I was gettin’ myself in for, I wouldn’ have bloody bothered. So, no, I never loved yi’. Never felt the sligh’es’ smidge of affection for you. And ye’, even now, yi’ still wan’ to believe tha’ I do, even though every indication I’ve ever given told yi’ the opposi’. That’s your faul’. Thinkin’ havin’ kids would get us closer? Thinkin’ the odd drunken shag would do i’? No, I was bored. Tha’s all.’ Jeremy sat back, sneering, observing the impact the weight of his words would have.

‘Not even the slightest bit? Even when we met, and had that wonderful first date, watching the stars after a beautiful meal, not another soul in sight, seeing that shooting star flashing blue across the sky, when we were young and it felt like it was only the two of us in the world? Even when Savannah was born, you felt nothing? The twins? Theo? None of this made you feel any warmth? Any love?’

He leaned forward again, and snarled, ‘nothin’.’

Lyra looked him dead in the eye and stuck on a small, sad smile. Internally, her heart had been ripped out of her chest. Her head hurt. She could feel bile rising in her throat. An urgency to depart this life rushed over her once more, more intense than at any other time in her life. Deep down, she already knew all of what Jeremy had said. To have it confirmed, though, was like another dagger to the heart, a bullet to her brain. But she was determined not to show him that his words had knocked off her last remaining light.

‘Okay.’ Lyra got up from her chair and tucked it beneath the table. ‘I hope that this next phase in your life will be as kind to you as I was. Somehow, I doubt this will be the case.’

With that, she turned on her heel and left the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his grin falter.

*

Lyra walked into the living room. It was midnight, and Savannah, Lauren, and Alexis were laughing at some cheesy film. Savannah and Lauren were cuddled together on one sofa, Alexis reclining on the other, spread wide, encapsulating all the available space. It was as though nothing had changed, and Lyra had stepped into a scene from six months ago. She leaned against the doorframe, clutching her arms tight to her body, and savoured the sight of their unfettered enjoyment.

Alexis turned her head. ‘Where’ve you been?’ Her voice was sharp.

Lyra smiled. ‘Just for a walk, darling.’

Alexis's gaze lingered for a moment, but she shrugged and turned it back to the television. ‘Want to join us?’

Lauren and Savannah scanned Lyra for any negative signs.

‘No, I’m tired and I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’d rather go to bed. I just came in to say goodnight, that’s all.’

Wrapping her arms around Alexis's shoulders, Lyra held her. She kissed Alexis’s forehead, the aroma of lavender bringing a tear to her eye. Alexis placed a warm, manicured hand onto Lyra’s arms, and Lyra kissed her again.

Lyra released Alexis and moved over to the other sofa and embraced Savannah. She felt Savannah’s muscles move beneath her hoodie, felt her strong arms mimic the pressure Lyra applied. When did she get so strong? Lyra kissed Savannah’s cheek and a sad smile flitted onto her.

Lyra then embraced Lauren as well. Into her ear, she whispered, ‘you’ll look after my girls, won’t you?’

Lauren broke off the embrace, a half-smile on her lips. ‘O-Of course I will.’

‘Good.’

Lyra walked from the room, making her way to the stairs. She pulled her handbag down from the coathangers beside the front door and headed up to her room.

Lyra closed her bedroom door and sagged against it, breathing out a huge sigh. She began crying, a mix of despair and relief. She sat on the edge of her bed and removed her shoes, slapping her bag down on the mattress. She changed into the comfiest clothes she had, and lay down in bed, allowing her grief and sadness into every crevice of her being. This time, the emotions were lightened by clarity and certainty.

Lyra pulled a bottle of vodka from her bag and filled the glass she’d placed by her bedside earlier to the brim. She took a hefty swig, draining half the glass straight away. She gagged at the taste.

You weren’t enough. Not enough for Jeremy, not enough for Savannah, not enough for Alexis, not enough for Aaron, not enough for Theo. Had you not been such a mess, you’d have been able to save him. The fault lies with you; you should have been there. How can you call yourself a mother if you allowed your own helpless child to die?

Lyra drained the glass and refilled it. She wasn’t enjoying drinking, for a change, but it was necessary.

You’re worthless. Hopeless. You’ve destroyed your life. Jeremy would have loved you if you’d been better, but no, you weren’t. You were needy, you needed him to love you to fill that hole inside of you that’s told you all your life that you aren’t enough. Well, you aren’t enough. If you were, none of this would have happened. Now he’s gone, Theo’s gone, your mother’s gone, and you’re going to destroy your remaining children, just like you destroy everything else you touch. They’d be better off without you and you know it. You’re no better than Jeremy. What a pair you made.

Lyra drank the contents of her glass in one and topped it up a third time. She’d had a third of the bottle. Her sight was blurry, the movement of her eyes slowing down. Her body loosened, yet her thoughts persisted, pelting her like hailstones.

You should have killed yourself long ago. You should never have been allowed to have kids. How could you give them a mother who’s more concerned with feeling sorry for herself than actually raising them? Who’s always been more worried about clinging to her husband and wallowing in drink and self-pity when that didn’t happen than actually providing for them? Oh, sure, they always had your money to get anything they needed, but they couldn’t buy your love, could they? Your attention? No, that was all directed to yourself, and now, it’s too late. The damage has been done. Had you not been so self-absorbed, Theo would never have died. You should have given them up for adoption the minute they were born, given them a mother who was actually worthy of the title. Given them a mother who was worth something rather than the empty shell you are.

Another glass down, and another refill. Lyra reached back into her handbag, her movements lethargic, and pulled out the four packs of sleeping pills. 100 pills and a whole lot of vodka. That’d do the trick. No matter what the doctors had given her to restore her to her full health, it couldn’t stop this. No human body could handle the sheer amount of poison she was pouring down her throat. She opened the first box, piled the pills into her mouth, a mouthful of vodka going down with each handful.

Ah, yes, that’s the right idea. Taking them pills like skittles, aren’t you? Let’s hope you succeed this time. After all, you’re such a failure you can’t even kill yourself right. No one would be surprised if that happened again. A failure, that’s what you are. Oh, yes, of course, you can hide behind your career. You’ve spent your life holding up this image of the ‘successful lawyer’ to make you feel like you’re worth something. It was nothing more than a fallacy. Such a fantastic person, allowing killers and psychopaths and rapists and paedophiles back onto the streets. That’s exactly what someone should be doing with their life. That’s a hallmark of success. A career destroying the lives of other families, as though destroying your own was insufficient. No, you’re hollow. It’s hopeless. You’ve never made any sort of positive difference to anyone. No one’s going to miss you. Heavens, they’re going to be grateful you’re gone. They won’t have you to hold them back anymore. No one’s even going to notice, you’re that worthless and forgettable. You’re weak. At least now, for once in your life, you’re doing the right thing. As they say, there’s a first time for everything.

Lyra sipped the last drops of vodka and swallowed the final two pills. Her body wanted to vomit, to eject the alcohol and pills, but she ignored it.

Her mind clouded. The room darkened. Her consciousness faded. The voices quietened but did not dissipate.

Good. This is exactly what you deserve for what you let happen to Theo. This is exactly what you deserve for your neglect. For your weakness. This is exactly what you deserve for making your husband despise you. This is exactly what you deserve for making everyone’s life around you miserable. This is exactly what you deserve. This is what you deserve. This is… what you deserve. What you… deserve… what… you… deserve… deserve… deserve…

*

‘Right, well, I think it’s time for bed now,’ Savannah let out a yawn and a stretch. She checked her phone. ‘Fuck me, it’s nearly three.’

‘Night, bitches,’ Alexis said through a yawn of her own.

‘You go on, I’ll clean up,’ Lauren said.

Savannah smiled. ‘Thank you. I’m just gonna go check on mum, then I’ll see you in bed.’ She left the room and walked upstairs.

Something was wrong. It was like an emergency light had flicked on in Savannah’s head. She felt something shift in her chest. She made her way to Lyra’s room, the pace of both her movement and breathing quickening with each stride. She opened the door.

Lyra lay spread-eagled on the bed. An empty bottle of vodka lay to her left, empty packets of pills to her right. She was white. Her eyes were slack, her limbs loose. Her chest was as active as a slab of granite. Her lips, so often downturned, were elevated slightly at the corners.

‘Mum? Mum? MUM, NO!’

Savannah darted to Lyra, jerking her body towards her. She checked for a pulse. Nothing. No breathing, no rise and fall of her chest, no movement beneath her eyelids.

‘MUM!’ Savannah screamed again through floods of tears.

She continued shaking her until Lauren charged in. Lyra didn’t move a millimetre.

This time, there would be no saving her. No holding her hand and guiding her from the brink of death.

Lyra Andrianakis was dead.