❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
The one she pointed to was from the car crash, she barely realized that she had it because that day she wasn’t focused on herself. She was only focused on Calliope that day because if she lost her that day, nothing else would have mattered especially not some scar on her neck.
“It must have been from the windshield, I barely remember feeling it because once I saw Callie I didn’t feel any physical pain. I remember all I cared about that day was her. She was everything I wanted and I never felt that way about someone, so I was terrified for her, I don’t remember calling the ambulance but I did because it was in my call log.”
Tears were falling down her face as she shook her head, “That was the worst day of my life, even being stuck in the woods weren’t that bad because I knew Calliope was safe at home. The car crash, I had to sit there all day and pray that she would be alive, that was one of the only days I’ve ever prayed, but I would have done anything to keep her alive.”
She wished she could say she didn’t know the feeling, but she hadn’t been lucky enough. With all the years that had passed her by, Teddy couldn’t even begin to count how many times she’d wished she could shoulder Henry’s pain for him — to bear each one of his scars herself. It was nothing more than wishful thinking, she knew that; yet, she still found herself hoping.
Teddy gazed sadly at her friend and wondered how the dimples still managed to show even when Arizona was crying. Her voice softened by a familiar pain, she said: “Sometimes, our minds shut things out so that we don’t have to remember the hurt. It’s too bad we can’t block out the worst of it, huh? I know how crazy with worry you can get; believe me.”
When the ghosts in Arizona’s eyes showed no signs of stepping down, Teddy offered her open arms — she had to try, no matter how ineffectual her gesture might be. “C’mere,” she whispered. “Callie’s here now; she’s safe, and that’s all that matters. You did good by her, Arizona — she knows you never stopped worrying, not even for a second. She knows how much you love her, and that’s what counts. It’s all over now.”
