Chapter 8 - The Old Story Sarah Never Told
That night, Daniel found Sarah in the parking garage.
She had just finished another shift.
The rabbit was hanging from her bag.
Nora had temporarily given it back to her again.
Daniel noticed.
“She still thinks it’s scared?”
“Apparently.”
He leaned against his car.
“Can I ask you something?”
Sarah sighed.
“Probably.”
“You said you’d seen something like this before.”
Sarah looked at the concrete floor.
For a long time, she said nothing.
Then she spoke.
“My brother was eight.”
Daniel waited.
“He complained about headaches.”
Sarah’s voice remained calm.
Too calm.
“For months.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“Doctors thought it was stress?”
She nodded.
“School anxiety. Growing pains. Attention seeking.”
Sarah swallowed.
“By the time someone finally ordered the right scan, there was nothing they could do.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Sarah continued.
“I spent years thinking if I had said something differently, maybe someone would have listened.”
“You were a child.”
“I know that now.”
She looked at him.
“But I didn’t know it then.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“That’s why you watch.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you counted.”
Sarah frowned.
“What?”
“Eight seconds.”
She stared.
“I heard you.”
Sarah looked away.
Daniel smiled faintly.
“You counted how long Nora looked at the light.”
“I notice patterns.”
“You do.”
Sarah placed both hands in her pockets.
“I’m not a hero, Daniel.”
He looked at her.
“I know.”
She frowned.
“That sounded worse than you intended.”
He laughed.
“I mean heroes don’t usually admit how close they came to missing something.”
Sarah looked toward the hospital.
“I could have walked past her room.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
Daniel opened his car door.
Then stopped.
“My daughter has a question.”
“What?”
“She wants to know if you’ll come to her birthday.”
Sarah stared.
“When?”
“Saturday.”
She smiled.
“Does the rabbit get an invitation?”
Daniel looked at it.
May you like
“Unfortunately, yes.”
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