Back The Great Alone: A Novel
Chapters (43)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1974
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. 1978
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. 1986
  34. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  35. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  36. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  37. Chapter Thirty
  38. Chapter Thirty-One
  39. Acknowledgments
  40. Also by Kristin Hannah
  41. About the Author
  42. Newsletter Sign-up
  43. Copyright

“Don’t get your hopes up,” the doctor said, and the room went quiet. “Matthew may breathe on his own but never wake up. He may remain in a persistent vegetative state. If he does wake, he may have substantial cognitive impairment. Breathing is one thing. Life is another.”

“Don’t say that,” Leni said too softly for anyone to hear. “He might hear you.”

“He will be okay,” Aly murmured. “He’ll wake up and smile and say he’s hungry. He’s always hungry. He’ll want one of his books.”

“He’s a fighter,” Mr. Walker added.

Leni couldn’t say anything. The high she’d felt when he took that first breath had gone. Like getting to the top of a roller coaster: there was a nanosecond of pure exhilaration before the headlong plunge into fear.

*   *   *

“THEY’RE DISCHARGING YOU TODAY,” Mama said while Leni stared up at the television suspended on the wall in her hospital room. Radar was babbling some story to Hawkeye on M*A*S*H. Leni hit the off button. She’d spent years wishing she could watch TV. Now she couldn’t care less.

Really, she had trouble caring about anything except Matthew. Her emotions were impossible to access. “I don’t want to go.”

“I know,” Mama said, stroking her hair. “But we have to leave.”

“Where will we go?”

“Home. But don’t worry. Your dad’s in jail.”

Home.

Four days ago, when she’d been in that crevice with Matthew, hoping against hope that they’d be rescued before he died in her arms, she’d told herself they’d be okay. Matthew would be fine, they’d go to college together, and Mama would come to Anchorage with them, get an apartment, maybe serve drinks at Chilkoot Charlie’s and collect big tips. Two days ago, when she’d watched them pull the tube from Matthew’s mouth and seen him breathe on his own, she’d had a split second of hope, and then it had crashed on the rocks of may never wake up.

Now she saw the truth.

There would be no college for her and Matthew, no do-over as a pair of ordinary kids in love.

There was no way to lie to herself anymore, to dream of happy endings. All she could do was be there for Matthew and keep on loving him.

I think you stand by the people you love. That was what he’d said, and it was what she would do.

“Can I see Matthew before I go?”

“No. He’s got an infection in his leg. They won’t even let Tom get near him. But we’ll come back as soon as we can.”

“Okay.”

Leni felt nothing as she dressed to go home.

Nothing.

She shuffled through the hallway beside her mother, the casted arm held in close to her body, nodding at the nurses who told her goodbye.