The Expansion of the Universe

Fifty-Four | "There's always a plan."

Liza had struggled with her faith since the plane crash.

It was difficult not to question the existence of God when one was faced with such trauma. Or, at least, that's what she would tell herself when she struggled with her religious beliefs. It was the memory of her mom, more than anything, that kept her grounded in her faith.

"There's always a plan," Mom would always say when Liza was young, and they faced the many difficulties that came from being a single-income home. "Always, even if we can't figure it out ourselves."

"Did God know that Dad wouldn't want us?" Liza had asked, driven by the innocent curiosity that existed within all children.

"He did," her mom had said, stroking a hand through Liza's hair. "And he knew that it would be best for us if your dad left. God will put people in our lives for a reason, and he will take them out for a reason. You'll often see there's a balance, even if it doesn't make itself clear until years later. Just remember that, baby."

Mothers were always correct, Liza had figured out that much by the time she entered college. So, even though she'd struggled with her faith after the plane crash, she would always hold on to what Mom had said so many years ago: "There's always a plan . . . God will put people in our lives . . . and he will take them out."

It was hard to imagine why God would choose to put Mitchell Pierce or his father in anyone's life, but Elijah Harris . . .

Well, Liza was certain that the man was a true blessing on earth.

So, perhaps that was the balance that her mother had been speaking of. Or, part of it, anyway.

She wondered, then, if she had been placed in Elijah Harris's life for a reason, as well. And, if she had, then she supposed she was being taken out of it for a reason, too.

If she was being taken out of his life.

Really, Liza couldn't discern whether or not she was leaving or staying. She felt like she was drifting in some sort of 'in-between' abyss, where life and death were both just out of her reach. She could hear voices, but was unable to make out any specific words, and although she imagined she was still in her body, she felt numb and couldn't seem to communicate with any of her limbs.

Liza wondered if she was in a hospital, in a coma or something. She truly had no idea just how severe her injuries had been, but it was entirely possible that she had been placed in a medically induced coma, if she wasn't in one as a result of her scuffle with Carson Pierce and his friend. The doctors had placed her in a coma for a brief period after the crash, due to the swelling in her brain from when she'd banged her head against damn near everything. In that experience, however, she recalled being aware of her surroundings: She remembered listening to her mom, crying over her; she was also able to feel the pain of her injuries and hear the doctors explain just how lucky she was to her mother.

This . . . this was different.

Her world, at the moment, was a blank, empty darkness.

In a way, it was the most peace she'd experienced since the crash. Okay, wait, that wasn't entirely true; she'd felt a significant amount of peace when tucked in Elijah's embrace, with Milo's cold nose pressed up against her neck.

Yeah, that had been nice.

She hoped no one had told Elijah of what had occurred. It wouldn't help him heal if he was worried about her. Then again, it wouldn't take him long to determine that something had happened to her, if he hadn't already; her lack of response to his texts would surely alert him.