<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t remember the crash. Not really.
\nI remember rain tapping the windshield, my mom\u2019s laugh, and telling her about Nate from chemistry.<\/p>\n
She teased me.
\n\u201cHe sounds like trouble, Maeve.\u201d
\nThen headlights\u2014too fast, too close.<\/p>\n
The next thing I remember is screaming for her.
\nShe lay on the pavement, twisted, unblinking. I begged her to wake up.<\/p>\n
Sirens. I woke up in a hospital bed. She was gone.<\/p>\n Two weeks later, I was living with him and Julia. At the trial, I dressed in black. I wanted justice for her. I froze. Nodded. \u201cMy mother,\u201d I whispered. I told my father. But later, I overheard him say, It hurt worse than any wound.<\/p>\n Then I found a letter. Calloway took a plea. It didn\u2019t feel like justice. The next morning, Julia made waffles. Real ones. Maybe this house could feel like home. I told Dad I wanted to start over. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to be perfect,\u201d he said. \u201cJust be here.\u201d<\/p>\n So I will. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\nHands pulling me away.
\nA voice said drunk driver.<\/em> Another said the mother was driving.<\/em>
\nI tried to speak, to say it was me, but I blacked out.<\/p>\n
\nFor a moment, I thought maybe it was all a nightmare.
\nThen my dad walked in.
\nAnd I knew.<\/p>\n
\nI couldn\u2019t eat her oatmeal. I wanted greasy waffles at midnight with Mom.<\/p>\n
\nBut then Calloway\u2019s lawyer asked,
\n\u201cWho was driving?\u201d<\/p>\n
\nBut later, the truth hit me like cold water: It was me.<\/em>
\nShe gave me the keys. She was tired. I asked for the ride.<\/p>\n
\nHe didn\u2019t yell. He just held me as I broke.
\n\u201cIt wasn\u2019t your fault, Maeve,\u201d he said.
\nI wanted to believe him.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cShe was driving. If Mara had just driven them home\u2026\u201d
\nAnd,
\n\u201cShe\u2019s a stranger to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nMom had written it to Dad:
\n\u201cMaeve is brilliant\u2026 maybe if you try, she\u2019ll let you in.\u201d
\nShe had doubts, too. That made room for mine.<\/p>\n
\nBut I stood by her portrait and whispered,
\n\u201cI love you. I miss you.\u201d
\nAnd I felt her hear me.<\/p>\n
\nShe smiled. I smiled back.<\/p>\n
\nMaybe I could plant Mom\u2019s flowers.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been awful,\u201d I admitted. \u201cBut I want to be better.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nI\u2019ll paint dinosaurs in Duncan\u2019s room. I\u2019ll try Julia\u2019s weird food.
\nAnd maybe, just maybe\u2026
\nthis life won\u2019t be so bad after all.<\/p>\n
\n