We're in the car for over fifteen minutes before we start talking. First we talk about dad, about memories I've hidden somewhere deep inside of me, the ones I only bring forth when Emma needs it. For me it's easier to not constantly think about it. For Emma it's like she's living on memories. Sometimes I wish I could forget them completely, because there are times when they come up to the surface without me looking for them. When that happens it's never pleasant. It can happen when I'm in the middle of a conversation with someone that didn't know about it, then it's hard to explain why I suddenly lost myself in the middle of a sentence. I can't say I thought about a memory I've pushed away of my dead father. No, in most cases I pretend I was thinking of something else. Eventually we talk about other things, about her mental health and that mom and Anders will marry. I tell her that in most cases in Sweden you can be engaged many years before you marry - if you even marry - she doesn't seem to think that's the case with mom and Anders.

"If they marry, I'm not going," she says and takes a sip of the water.

"Do you dislike Anders?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No, I don't dislike him. I don't understand why they have to do everything so quickly... then it's the whole thing with dad too."

"Mom must be allowed to move on."

I should be careful with the words I chose after her meltdown, but she didn't seem offended or upset over what I said.

"Yes, but I don't understand how she can move on when it didn't end in a normal way. Dad was taken from us, it wasn't like they stopped loving each other. I don't understand how she stop loving him and start loving someone else when there wasn't a real ending of their relationship."

I lean forward and look out of the car window. It's dark inside and the only thing that lightens the area are the lamps on the house.

"I don't think she stopped loving him. I don't think you can stop loving someone that is taken away from you in that way, but that doesn't mean that you can't love someone else."

"She loves them both?" she asks.

"Yes, one does not exclude the other."

"She stopped going to dad's grave."

"I think that's her way of moving on, but the love will most likely always be there."

Emma leans her head towards the window.

"Shall we go back? We can go straight to the guest room and stay there to the morning."

"No, I meant what I said. I don't want to be there for a second longer. You can stay if you want to. I'm going home tonight."

"I don't think it's good to drive home now, not after you've been so upset. Can't you try?"

She turns towards me, her lips are tightly shut together. "I've tried. I tried when I came here when I didn't want to. I tried at dinner even though it felt like I was going to throw up. Just because my attempts don't look like yours doesn't mean I'm not trying."

I sigh. She will not change her mind, either she goes home alone or I go with her and make sure she doesn't have another meltdown. I already know what mom will ask me to do and I know that I'll yield.

"I'll come. Can I get our bags first?"

"Do you want you want. I'll stay in the car."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I don't blame her for it. I rather not go back and answer a bunch of questions that Anders' side of the family will have, but we can't leave our things here.

"I'll be back shortly," I say and get out of the car.

***

I throw our bags, as well as my purse, into the backseat. They didn't say anything when I came inside, they pretended that nothing had happened. All they asked was if we were going home now, and mom thanked me for going with Emma. I'm not sure if I'm thankful or annoyed. I wish mom had said something else, or that they didn't pretend nothing had happened. There was a heavy, thick atmosphere over the whole house that spoke for them, maybe that's why it left an unpleasant taste in my mouth when they didn't say anything when it was so tangible.

Emma puts the key into the car when I open the door to the passenger seat.

"Can we go now?" she asks.

The sound of the engine fills the car.

"Yeah, I brought everything with me, I think," I say and sit down.

When I slam the door shut and fasten my seat belt, she adjusts the rear-view mirror and pulls out of the driveway. I turn and stare at the house until I can't see it anymore. I would rather have stayed and tried to fix what had happened, made Emma realize that it was best if she stayed in the guest room until morning. I could have scolded mom, asked her what she was thinking. But there was no point in thinking of what I could have done when I don't have those choices.

"What are you planning to do when you come home?" I ask to fill the silence.

We're no longer in our childhood's hometown, there is a fir-tree forest on each side of the way and the only thing that lights up the area is the moon and the strong lights from the cars.

Emma is focusing on the road in front of her. "I don't know. I just didn't want to be there anymore. You know that."

I don't believe her, if anything it's a half truth. That she didn't want to stay I've already realized, I know that her "I don't know" is there so she doesn't have to say that she will lay in her bed and not do much else. Sometimes she'll read some book or watch a tv-show to make the time go faster, sometimes it seems like she wants the time to go and go until everything stops.

"Maybe you should leave the apartment for some time... get some air?"

"I've gotten enough of air the last few days," she answers firmly.

She's right, she's been out more than she usually is. I'm proud of her, but I'm afraid she'll shut herself in again.

"Maybe I can come and visit," I begin carefully. "We could take a walk in the park or something."

"It's not needed."

She has put up a wall that I can't seem to get through.

I open my mouth to say something, but she speaks first. "I want to focus on driving, Jonna."

I sigh. She's unreachable, no matter what I say to her I can't reach her.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" I ask and she nods with her eyes fixed on the road.

I can't think of an answer, not that I think Emma cares. She prefers that I say nothing and let her be.

I take off the seatbelt and reaches towards the backseat.

"What are you doing?" she asks and throws a quick glance at me.

"Since you don't want to talk," I say and reach for my purse. "I have to entertain myself with something else."

"Maybe you shouldn't be doing that now? I can park somewhere..."

"No, it's fine." I wrap the purse's shoulder strap around my two fingers and pull it closer. I get a good grip around the bag and put it into my lap. "See? It went great."

She throws another worried glance at me. "It could have gone bad."

I take out the reading tablet I brought with me for the train journey to Gävle, where Emma picked me up. On our way here she had been more talkative, she had talked incessantly about our childhood, about the grave and the forest I promised we would visit. But there was still an unpleasant mood over her.

I shut out the thoughts and put away the purse while I turn on the reading tablet and start reading.

Emma never has any music on in the car, which I prefer because we have very different music taste. It's easier to read to silence than music you don't like. Yet I can't focus on the book, I read the same sentence over and over again, the words don't stick. After a few minutes I give up and put it back in the purse, I lean towards the cold car window.

I don't like the silence, but I can't find an excuse to talk. I close my eyes and hope that I can fall asleep. I think about my soft bed and my apartment. But not for long, soon I'm thinking about my childhood's bedroom I haven't seen in almost ten years. I don't know why I started thinking about it, but one thing is clear. It's like I'm there, like I'm standing in the middle of my childhood's bedroom. It's raining outside the window in my imagination, the grass has become wet and its glistening from the raindrops. I can hear the sound of rain hitting my window, it's unpleasantly clear and for a moment I believe I'm there. It feels more real than it should.

"Emma," I say and open my eyes.

She screams unnaturally high. The strong light that blinds us makes me close my eyes again. I feel glass and pain. I hear screaming.

Everything goes quiet and I feel nothing at all.