Thirty-One Letters

Twenty-Four

Grief is never something you get over. You don't wake up one morning and say, 'I've conquered that; now I'm moving on.' It's something that walks beside you every day. And if you can learn how to manage it and honour the person that you miss, you can take something that is incredibly sad and have some form of positivity—Terri Irwin

Hadley knew that something had changed in the world before she even opened her eyes. It was a gut feeling. Like the framework of the universe had shifted while she'd been sleeping. She felt unsettled but didn't know why.

Yet when she opened her eyes and sat up, blinking at the early dawn seeping in through her curtains, nothing appeared to be amiss. Hadley was in her bed where she always slept. It was early, but not too early. She was well-within the timeframe to catch the good waves before the beach crowded.

Hadley swung herself out of bed and prepared for her training session. She completed her morning ritual of washing her face and brushing her teeth. Her hair was braided, rash guard and bikini pulled on, beach bag packed with a towel, sunscreen, and bottle of water. She stuffed extra wax for her board into her bag and then left her bedroom.

When she was ready, Hadley went to the kitchen to scarf down a muffin and banana for breakfast. The house was quiet. Too quiet. No one else was awake yet.

Late again, Hadley thought as she made her way back down the hallway. How the hell we ever get anything done on time is beyond me.

She turned left instead of right and banged on the closed door. "Hurry up! We're going to miss all the good swells!"

Hadley was met by only silence. The uneasy feeling returned. She knocked again but still nothing. Not a word or a rustle of clothing. Hadley pressed down on the handle and the door swung open.

Tanner was still asleep. He was lying on his bed, looking as if he'd collapsed there in complete exhaustion the night before. He was fully clothed still, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers. His blond hair was ruffled at the side as hers often did when she was sleeping.

"T, come on. It's time to get up. The waves await."

He didn't respond. Didn't so much as stir in annoyance.

Hadley stepped forward with the intention to shake him awake but her foot crunched on plastic. She looked down, saw an empty orange pill bottle lying on the ground. The white cap had been removed and was not visible. Hadley's stomach dropped and for a moment dark spots danced across her vision. She was going to be sick, she was—

Her hands fell onto his shoulders and she began to shake him but there was no pulse jumping in his throat. The rise and fall of his chest as he breathed was frighteningly absent.

And Hadley began to scream—

She jolted awake, shaking and sweaty.

Hadley's bedroom was dark. Much darker than it had been in her dream. Still the middle of the night. Her heart raced in her chest. Real. It had felt so real. As if he had really still been alive. As if she was experiencing the pain of finding him all over again. It was only the weight of Bandit sleeping on her feet that reminded her of the time that had passed.

Tears streaked down her face as she leaned back into the pillows. It was July twenty-sixth. Exactly one month had passed since she'd opened her first letter from Tanner. In that time, she'd finished twenty-one of the thirty-one challenges he'd prepared for her. The twenty-first had culminated in the completion of an escape room she'd done with Ty the night before. The challenge, Tanner had said, was to teach her to tackle one thing at a time. One problem. Then the next. And the next. Until there were no problems left to solve.