White Space Season 1

I have to leave the island?” A tear painted her right cheek.
    “Yes.”
    “Would Cassidy stay here?”
    “Probably.”
    “How about Nana.”
    “Yes, I’m sure of it.”
    “Why can’t you and Cassidy and me live together? You already like each other, don’t you? Can’t you just do that?”
    Jon bit his lip to keep from losing it completely. “That’s not up to me, Emma,” he said. “It’s complicated. That might not be what’s best for me, or for your Aunt Cassidy. And if it isn’t best for us, it won’t be best for you.”
    Emma’s face held its expression for several seconds before it began twitching, hanging at the lip of collapse for a full minute before finally spilling into a sea of sudden tears.
    Emma sobbed into her father’s chest, trying to push words from her throat that Jon couldn’t understand. When she was finally breathing regularly enough to get her words out in a clear and unbroken string, Jon was chilled by their clarity.
    “Why did my mother have to die?” Emma sobbed.
    Jon pulled her tighter and whispered, “I don’t know, sweetie, I don’t know.”
    He stroked her hair, staring at a small living room table and the well lit photo of Sarah and Emma together, probably the Easter before, with Emma wearing bunny ears and hugging a big basket of brightly colored eggs.
    Jon closed his eyes, aching at the everything he would never have.
    That they would never have.

    * * * *

EPILOGUE

    Hamilton Island, Washington
    Friday
    September 1 (the day of the shooting)
    morning

    The unmistakable — and unforgettable — thunder of gunshots crashed through the walls.
    What the …?
    “Oh God, someone has a gun!” Sarah said into the phone, loud enough for every ear in class to hear it. Then, even louder, “I think Mr. Heller has a gun!”
    “What?” Nancy said as Sarah’s students started to scream, scatter, and run toward the door.
    More shots, then a sharp pain split through the center of Sarah’s chest as her body slammed against the wall.
    She looked down, stunned to see the small sea of crimson quickly spreading to ocean across the front of her aqua blue blouse.
    Oh God.
    I’m going to die today.
    As Sarah’s world blurred at its edges, she thought of Emma sitting in her classroom.
    Emma and her little crush.
    Oh God, please keep her safe …
    Sarah’s lids fell closed.
    Everything went black.

    Sarah woke in darkness, in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room.
    The room was cold, and hummed with the sound of circulated air.
    A soft blue light above and behind her bed killed just enough of the surrounding black for Sarah to see the raw outline of a few blurry shapes: the bed, a chair and small table, and curtains. Two doors, one which presumably led to a bathroom. The other likely led to a hallway.
    How did I get in a hotel room?
    Where’s Emma?
    Her head was foggy, as if she’d been sleeping forever. She felt like she’d been drugged or something.
    Oh God, did someone drug and rape me?
    Sarah sat up in the bed, searching the room for a sign of whoever the hell had brought her there. But she was alone. She didn’t feel like she’d had sex, willing or otherwise. Nor did she feel any pain, other than a dull ache in her bones.
    It was then that Sarah remembered Roger Heller and the bullet which pierced her chest.
    She looked down, and realized that the shirt she was wearing wasn’t hers. It was silky, and long like a gown, all one piece, ending at her knees. Sarah pulled the neck of the gown down enough to see that the flesh of her chest was perfectly pale and smooth, no wounds. Not even a scar.
    Am I in a hospital?
    She stood, wobbly, bracing herself against the bed to find her balance. She wanted to cry, “Hello” but didn’t. Almost couldn’t. Something in the back of her mind warned her to stay silent.
    She made her way toward the door which seemed to lead out of the room. Inches from the door, Sarah saw that there was no doorknob.
    What the hell?
    She looked along the side of the door for a button or something, anything that could open the door, but found nothing.
    She turned back and went to the other door.
    It slid open in a whisper upon her approach, the thin alloy frame of the door sliding into a recess in the wall. A soft blue light illuminated a bathroom on the other side.
    Sarah stepped into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, then closer at her gown. It reminded her of a hospital gown, except it didn’t tie in back. She hiked up the gown, sat on