Easing Heimweh (Heim, #1) ✓

8: See

I felt so sick to my stomach.

Paying workmates a borderline mandatory visit to the hospital was one thing. Entering this white-cladded building in hopes of finding out that my sister was alive and breathing was another.

"Dad, please," I uttered, and I could've knelt and begged had I not taken hold of the door handle to Everen's room. "Lass mich sie sehen." Let me see her.

"You fool," he spat. From here I could see the nerves in Dad's neck threaten to burst from anger. "You had chances to see her in a better state, but you were selfish enough to leave."

"I—"

"I will hear no excuses from you, Evadne!" Massaging his temples, my father turned away from me and took short breaths, but I doubted that helped ease his nerves as I did the same hours ago, while I was a thousand feet up there, and it did nothing to make me feel even a tad saner. "I did not raise a stupid heir. Just look at what happened to your brother. He brought disgrace to our name!"

"Why is it about Elton now?" I asked, keeping my tone level and eyes straight at Dad's piercing ones. "I just want to see my sister. Allow me to at least do that. I did not come here to argue with you."

"And you think you deserve a medal of honor for showing up after pulling that stunt you did days ago?"

He took small, condescending steps towards me, and I could imagine myself ten years ago, with a smaller frame and no heart to look at him directly. I might as well return to my past with the way Dad's rage filled every inch of the hospital's hallway. "I am far from stupid," he went on. "You are not getting away with any wrongdoing just because you shed a few tears for Eve."

A few. I wanted to laugh at that.

I hadn't stopped crying since I heard the news from Cali. I was surprised to have survived on the way here as I was on autopilot for gods knew how long. Only one thing ran inside my head, and that was Everen. That she was hurting now.

That somehow, it was my fault.

"She wanted to look for you," Dad said, his voice a little less louder. "She's mad at you for leaving, but your sister demanded we look for you."

"And you didn't," I interrupted before he could say anything else. Judging by his clenched jaw and hardened gaze, my hunch was correct. "Because I'm as disgraceful as Elton."

"I paid thousands to silence the media the same morning you left because Eve didn't want to hear another scandal about you and Elton," he said. "And when you still hadn't returned, she thought it was a good idea to steal one of your mom's cars in the garage and drive to the airport alone. Gods, Evadne, she's only 17. She has no license! Eve did that because of you!"

I felt sicker than I was a while ago.

Of course I was in the wrong. I dared to look through the ward's glass window on the door and my eyes gravitated to Everen. She was there on the bed, her pain evident though she stayed unconscious. Mom watched over her sleeping figure, in tears while holding her hand. Of course I caused that.

Of course my freedom was a joke.

"I'm only giving you another chance because there will be no news about your stupidity anytime soon. Mess up again and you will not like the consequences." Before pushing me away and opening the door to get inside, Dad looked at me one last time, unreleased anger and utter disappointment evident in his eyes. "You won't be seeing her tonight. Nach Hause gehen." Go home.

So I stood there helpless, the small glass window my only source of assurance that my sister was alive. I was left helpless, doubting for a moment if I had made the right choice to go back if I'd only be met with Dad's contempt. I wanted nothing of those hurtful statements from him. I just needed to see Everen.

But I knew I had no right to even watch them from here.

And I didn't know where else to go. I was stuck, my feet refusing to move. Dad said I should go home. That I should be in the manor again before I think of doing anything stupid because I wouldn't like what he'd do if I didn't listen.

I was a stickler for the rules, and for good reason. No one, even I, was used to the behavior I'd been showing, because I rarely strayed away from every instruction, every standard that older Alonzos set for the generations that followed, no matter how ridiculous and excessive they were. I was the eldest; by our custom, I had to be Miss Good Girl.

Said Miss Good Girl was now on some hospital's rooftop, her head swarming with unpleasant thoughts, eyes brimming with fresh tears, and bearing an outright refusal to go home because her definition of the word wasn't clear anymore.

How could someone in their right mind run away from home anyway?

I'd forgotten to check my phone for new messages since my arrival here. The last time I contacted anyone was when I asked Cali if she could keep the news a secret from my brother, to which she agreed without question.

We both were aware of how Elton would react and what he would do if he knew. Right now, it was far from safe, as Dad might pour out his pent-up anger to him. I wasn't sure if I was ready to witness that.

Looking at my contacts, I was met with four missed calls from V. I checked my inbox right away and turned out to have had one unread text from him, and suddenly I found it harder to breathe.

I don't know where you are, or if anything happened that made you leave without notice, but I hope you're okay. I'll be waiting for you, Alon.

I didn't have the heart to respond. Not like this. Not when I wasn't sure if I could try again, to give freedom another shot.

I wanted to leave so bad, but my fear overruled everything.

I tried standing, desperate to find my footing after melting into breakdowns in the span of minutes. I wasn't sure if my body could handle any worse news tonight.

Dropping my phone to the ground, I wiped off my tears in a hurry. I shouldn't be like this. Dad would throw a fit if I cried.

I ran my palms to my hair that was held together with a cloth prior to my flight to keep it in place. The length had gotten to the point where I had been repeatedly distracted by it. Right now, several strands fell out of place, joining together in a wavy, tangled mess.

I had to fix it. I had to fix me.

In spite of my seemingly never ending sniffles and hiccups, I removed the cloth and untangled my hair to the best of my ability with my fingers. I bit my lip to stop crying as it hurt. And my eyes hurt. Everything hurt and I couldn't do anything but to go through this.

But the then-bearable breeze started to pick up, turning stronger with each passing second. I had to close my eyes so they wouldn't strain, and I felt my tears drying up. I thought it was a good thing, but the wind might just be disappointed in me, too.

Defeating my attempt to tie my hair again, the cloth slipped away, choosing to be carried by the breeze instead of staying with me, and I was tempted to cry again. Why couldn't anything work in my favor? Did the world hate me this much?

"Signorina," shouted someone from a distance. I whipped my head to the direction of the voice and was met by a stranger—a serene-looking, worry-filled stranger who had my cloth in his hand.

"I believe this is yours."