Prologue
What can you say about a barely-thirty-year-old, very special woman who died?
That she was beautiful. And strong. That she loved horses. And her property. And her daughter, her daughter above anything else.
I once told her 'I love you, you know that?' And she answered. 'I know. I love you too.' And it was the one moment I thought life finally started to make sense. Nothing else mattered. Only she did.
I always thought loving someone in that way(and being loved back) would be great. That it would make you feel complete. That it would feel like all the world is yours(which it did, it sure did). But I never thought it could be kind of dangerous. But it turned out to be. Because I never thought I'd ever lose her. Not that soon. God, was I wrong.
No, let's remove that sentence. God, have I thought I was wrong.
But let's not rush things. It's a complicated story. That one day I thought would be the day. That night I thought would be The Night. With capitals. But it wasn't. It wasn't.
Not too long after she had left we were called up. By Peter Johnson(I know it's wrong, but God do I hate that man). And for once he didn't act like my enemy. He sounded… different, and I started to worry. I don't know why, but somehow I knew it from the moment I answered the phone. I could just sense something was wrong. And that doesn't really sound like me, I know, cause usually I'm not the one sensing things(Tess is, most times. But not that time.). But well, that time I could feel it. I could hear it in the way he talked to me.
'I have some bad news.'
'Oh, what is it?'
'Claire was in an accident.'
'What, where? I'll be there in..'
'No please, let me finish. It's no use, she… She died.'
Oh well, I guess everyone remembers how I reacted on that. Not at all, actually, I just hang up. And I was… I don't know how to describe the feeling. I was just waiting for someone to wake me up, to tell me it wasn't real. Or a phone call from whoever to tell me it was all a bad joke. But that someone didn't appear.
The strangest thing was, at the hospital they wouldn't let me see her. Not me, not Tess. Not anyone. Tess was angry, of course, at the doctors, but the most angry at herself. For not coming with Claire when she went into town. For not being able to save her. She was angry. What I felt was beyond anger. I just saw red. I should be ashamed of it as I say this, but I hit a doctor. They had to drag me away from him before I'd knock him to the ground. And they let me drink something weird to calm down. And I went home. And I cried, and I drank until I fell asleep on the couch. Yes, I went through hell. But this story won't end where you'd expect it to end. Because the person I'm writing about didn't turn out to be as dead as everyone thought she was.
And I'd never have found her back if I hadn't been there at the right place, at the right time.