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Back Little Universes
Chapters (63)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Part 1
  6. Mae
  7. Hannah
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. Part 2
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. Part 3
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. Epilogue
  59. Mental Health Resources
  60. Acknowledgments
  61. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
  62. About the Author
  63. Newsletter Sign-up

Suboxone Package

Medication Dispensary

Boston Children’s Hospital

diamonds are a girl’s best friend.

Opioid Addiction Hotline Sign

Copley Station

Boston

31

Hannah

Somehow I knew he’d be here. Waiting for me.

Drew sits beneath my angel like an offering. It’s snowing again, and the flakes swirl around him, around her. It is so quiet here. Day fading to night. The garden empty, too cold for strolling.

He stands. Slow. He’s afraid I’ll run away again.

“They won’t let me see you.” His eyes are dark, a night sea. “I came. To your house.”

“I know.”

I heard his voice last night after I got back, even through my closed bedroom door upstairs. The one that no longer has a lock.

His voice, like the last lifesaver on a sinking ship, floating just beyond reach. For just one second, I wanted something more than a pill.

“Did you … I called.” He laughs softly. “I even emailed you.”

“I couldn’t have anything in … there.”

There.

Sweating through the clothes Aunt Nora brought. Shivering under starchy hospital sheets. My bones grinding against one another, muscles spasming, my body a traitor, punishing me. The nightmares, the wave and Mom in that grave and Dad running away from her, toward Rebecca Chen. Me, alone on an island in the middle of a sea and nobody will ever find me because I am invisible, I am invisible. Waking up alone, cold, cold, make it stop.

Finally saying, out loud, I want to die.

“You didn’t tell me,” I say, “that it was my dad who said we should do right by the miracle.”

His face wobbles a little. “I didn’t know if … it was weird? Me looking him up.”

I shake my head. “Not weird.”

Beautiful. Perfect. But not weird.

Drew is in front of me now, and his cheeks are so red from the cold, he must have been out here forever, waiting. He whispers, “Hannah, can … can I hold you?”

There is pure agony on his face, and so much hope. And fear. I don’t know what to do with that.

I’m just trying to keep the lights on.

“Please,” he says.

“Why?”

I’m the shell you throw back into the ocean, not the one you put into your pocket. I’m just a shell, I want to tell him. There is nothing here. Nothing left inside.

“Because I love you.”

My eyes fill with the ocean.

He steps so close I can feel his breath on my cheek. “I love you so much, Hannah, so fucking much, and it’s killing me right now, not touching you.”

Through the blur of tears, I see this rope he’s throwing me, trying to pull me in to safety.

Take it, someone whispers. Take it, Hannah.

Despite everything, Mom is still a hopeless romantic. She always has been.