Chapter 6

Chapter Six

T aylor pressed her cheek to Lennon’s soft hair, breathing in her baby scent while she wiggled sleepily in her arms. Johnny was curled up in the corner of the couch watching cartoons as he clutched his new stuffed dog they’d given him for Christmas. Adele was sitting nearby, enjoying spending time with Johnny while Lucy was “away on a jaunt,” as she had been told.

Alice was sprawled on the rug in front of the TV, flipping through one of her art books, headphones over her ears, the cord leading into her new phone. Sam had debated getting her cordless ones, but ultimately decided those would be too easy to misplace.

Outside, as he worked on his client’s car, his tools clinking once in a while from his shop, carrying over the chill evening air.

Ellis and Cate had been gone with Lucy for four agonizingly long hours. Taylor hadn’t talked to Sam or Ellis about her plans yet, but she was already figuring out how to arrange Lennon’s crib and dressing stand into the corner of Alice’s room.

Just temporarily, so that they could move Lucy in until she recovered. Johnny sure wouldn’t mind. He loved being there with them, especially Alice. He was also infatuated with Lennon, calling her ‘their’ baby. He wanted to be included with loving her.

When her phone vibrated on the armrest, Taylor’s pulse spiked.

Cate’s name lit up the screen.

“Hey,” she whispered, inching further from Johnny, hoping not to disturb him.

“Taylor, it’s me.” Cate’s voice was soft but edged with worry. “We’re at the hospital. They’ve done some initial testing on Lucy.”

Taylor’s throat tightened. “And?”

“First of all, all the drug screens are clean. She’s not taking anything.”

Taylor released the breath she was holding and her shoulders dropped. “Oh, thank you, Jesus. Then what’s going on with her?”

“They’re leaning toward psychotic depression.” Cate paused, letting it sink in. “She’s going to get a full workup, though. MRI, CT scan … bloodwork. Dr. Langston thinks they need to do a neurological assessment, too.”

Taylor pressed her hand to her forehead, trying to force herself to focus. “Psychotic depression. That … that means she’s actually hearing and seeing things, right?”

“Yes,” Cate replied. “She’s still convinced people are watching her, tracking her. She’s hearing voices at night, like whispers or sometimes faint music. She mentioned the mice again, too.”

Taylor closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. “God, Mom, I don’t even know what to do with this. All those things from when we were kids … they’re starting to make more sense now.”

“Like what?” Cate’s voice was gentle, urging her on.

“Lucy was always … different,” Taylor began, her vo ice low. “And I do remember once she stayed in her room for a few days, not talking to anyone and barely eating or going to the bathroom. I thought she was just being dramatic. I should’ve seen it was something else and gotten help for her. Maybe it would’ve changed all the wrong choices she made later, as an adult.”

Cate sighed. “Taylor, you couldn’t have known. You were a kid yourself. You took care of your sisters the best that you could. You kept them safe and fed and helped them through school. Never take that away from yourself.”

“Yeah, but there were other things. Like one time she locked herself in the bathroom for hours, convinced someone was spying on her through the mirror. Or when she’d disappear for days, only to show up again like nothing had happened. Dad and I thought it was just being ‘rebellious,’ but maybe … maybe it was more.”

Cate’s silence hummed through the line before she responded, “I think it was. And that’s why we’re here now. We’ll get to the bottom of it and find a way to help her.”

Taylor wanted to cry. She still felt like her sister’s mother. She held Lennon a little tighter, feeling the warmth of her small body steady her. This one would be protected and never have to worry.

She swallowed the lump in her throat before her next question. “How is she right now? Is she … calm?”

Cate hesitated. “They gave her a sedative. She’s … stable, but she’s not herself, Taylor. She’s gone into a place that’s hard to reach.”

A thick, uneasy silence fell between them. Taylor wanted to cry, to scream, but all she could do was sit there, helpless, as her sister lay in a sterile hospital room miles away, probably terrified inside her mind.

“I think I need to come down there,” she said, her voice small.

“No,” Cate said softly. “You’re still recovering yourself. I don’t want this to make you slide back. Try to be calm and stay with the kids. I’ll keep you updated, I promise. Let me be her mom, Taylor. You did it long enough and now you can rest.”

Taylor took a shaky breath, nodding through sudden tears, even though Cate couldn’t see her. “Thank you for being there.”

“Of course.” Cate’s voice softened. “Listen, Taylor … we’ll get through this. We all will. Just hold onto that, okay?”

Taylor nodded again, feeling the weight of it all settling over her. As she ended the call, she glanced around her quiet living room, feeling the bittersweet ache of family and the harsh reality of their fragile world pressing in on her. Again.