“…and number six on TRL today is…” Carson started to say. I held my breath as I picked up the phone to answer it.

“Hello,” I said absentmindedly into the receiver, my focus still on Carson.

“… “Truly Madly Deeply” by Savage Garden!”

“Woo!” I cheered out loud as the music video started on the screen.

“Chloe?” I heard Aunt Betty’s voice calling out to me.

“Hey, Aunt Betty. Sorry about that. My favorite song just came on.” My body started swaying with the beat of the song.

“That’s nice, honey,” she said in an eerily soft voice. “Um, so I wanted to let you know that I’m on my way home right now.” There was a rawness in her voice that gave me pause and I immediately felt my entire body tense up.

“What is it? Is something wrong, Aunt Betty?”

“I’ll be home soon.” I noticed she didn’t answer my question.

I felt a wave of panic prickle down my body. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is Uncle Tom okay?” I asked her in quick bursts of alarm.

“Y—yes, we’re both fine. We’re not hurt.” Her words stumbled out and I could tell she was flustered and anxious about something.

“What’s wrong?” I looked at the clock and realized Jackson hadn’t shown up yet. “Is it Jackson? Please don’t tell me it’s Jackson, Aunt Betty.” I felt my chest tighten with worry as the thought of something happening to Jackson tore at my insides.

“No, honey. Please calm down. It’s not Jackson.” Her voice was overly soothing and strangely disconcerting, inducing the opposite effect she’d probably intended.

“What is it, then? What are you not telling me?”

“I just exited the freeway, so I’ll be home soon. We can talk then.”

I searched anxiously for the meaning behind her words, trying to piece together a logical explanation for her odd behavior. It was clear she had something to tell me, but she didn’t want to say it over the phone. She says she’s okay, Uncle Tom’s okay, and Jackson’s okay … so what else can it be?

Then, as if clarity had smacked me against the face, another person came to mind. Suddenly, a wave of apprehension swept through me.

“Is it my mom?” I cried out, my voice rising an octave higher.

There was a brief silence before she answered, and yet it felt like a lifetime.

“Honey, I’ll be home in less than two minutes,” she insisted. “Just wait for me, okay?”

My stomach twisted in agony, knowing her response was no different than saying “yes.” Something had happened to my mom and it must not be good news if Aunt Betty wanted to tell me in person.

As the overwhelming flood of fear and anxiety began to consume my thoughts, I tried to think back to the last time I’d seen my mom. It’d been almost a month ago when I had visited her at the long-term rehabilitation facility she was staying at. She was nearing the end of her three-month stay, and she looked healthy, sober, and happy. I had updated her on everything that’d been going on with me since the previous time I’d seen her. She had promised me that after she left the rehab facility, she wouldn’t need to return to one again. She had promised me that she felt like she wasn’t sick anymore. She had promised me that I’d be able to move back in with her soon.

“Chloe?” came a voice from behind me. “Chloe?”

I turned to the voice. It was Aunt Betty standing at the opening of the kitchen area and looking at me with concern in her blood-shot eyes.

“Are you okay, honey? I called out your name several times before you turned around.”

Her blood-shot eyes! As if someone had just flipped a switch inside me, I leaped to Aunt Betty’s side. “Is my mom okay?”

The moment I saw her face twist in agony, I knew I didn’t want to hear it.

“Honey,” she began slowly, “I think you need to sit down for this.”

I sat down quickly to appease her before blurting out, “Where’s my mom right now?” I searched her face for answers, growing more impatient by the second.

“Chloe … there’s no easy way to say this, and you’re old enough where I need to just be straight forward with you.”

“Did she have another rebound? Where is she now?” Panic tightened its vicious grip on me as I tried to hang on to the possibility that it wasn’t what I feared the most.

But, like many times before, I was wrong.

“Chloe, your mom passed away this morning.” Her voice was shaky, but the words came out as clear as day.

Even though I heard her, I just stared at her, unable to process what she’d said. I felt numb and didn’t know how to react to her words.

“They found her in her apartment this morning when she hadn’t checked in with her sponsor like she was supposed to.” She paused as she wiped the tears from her face. “They said she overdosed on some over-the-counter—” Aunt Betty’s words broke off mid-sentence.

She threw her arms around me and began to sob uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I know how much you wanted her to get better.”

I stood there, unable to move, and watched Aunt Betty weep for her younger sister. I knew I should feel intense pain. I knew I should be sobbing for my loss. I knew I should be reacting to this news about the woman I’d loved the most in this life.

But I felt nothing.

“Chloe?” Aunt Betty finally noticed that something was wrong with me, that I hadn’t made a single sound since she’d broken the news. “Are you okay, honey?”

“I’m fine.” That was the only response I knew how to give. That was how I felt. Fine.

I couldn’t seem to feel the pain. I couldn’t seem to shed a tear. I couldn’t seem to react at all. The only thing I seemed to be able to feel was the all-consuming numbness that seemed to shield me from the rest of the world.

***

My mom’s funeral was held a week after she’d passed. It was very much like her life: dark, meager, short-lived, and attended by just a few.

It was a simple ceremony that lasted no more than fifteen minutes from start to finish. In addition to the dense layers of dark, threatening clouds overhead, only Aunt Betty, Uncle Tom, Jackson, Jackson’s father, my mom’s sponsor, and I were in attendance.

After the casket was lowered into the ground and we’d each thrown our handful of dirt onto the casket, people started to say their goodbyes as the small group started to head back to their cars.

I purposely lingered behind everyone, wanting to spend a few more minutes in front of the casket alone with her.

The idea that she was gone, that I would never see her again, that I would never hear her voice again, was something that hadn’t sunk in. It was something my head hadn’t wrapped itself around. It was something my heart hadn’t accepted. It was something my body hadn’t felt.

“You promised, Mom,” I whispered as I stood over the open grave. “Why did you have to leave me? Did you do it on purpose? Was I not worth living for? You promised you’d get better and I’d move in with you soon. You promised…”

“Hey, Chloe,” came a voice from behind me.

I turned and saw that it was Jackson’s dad walking over from where the rest of the group stood talking.

“Hi, John.” After the years of correcting me, I’d finally gotten used to calling Jackson’s dad by his first name.

“I’m really sorry for your loss.”

I just nodded, not quite sure what else to say. I couldn’t tell him that I hadn’t shed a single tear since my mom died, that I hadn’t felt any sadness or anger, that I felt absolutely nothing.

“I can’t imagine what you must be going through right now.”

“Yeah.”

“Jackson mentioned that you didn’t get a chance to see her too often.”

I frowned. I wasn’t interested in talking about my mom, but I didn’t think there was a polite way to say that.

“You’re a good kid, Chloe. Even when you first moved in with your aunt and uncle, you were a good kid. I remember thinking what a good influence you were on Jackson, and how much he matured over the years.”