*CHAPTER 46*

*CHAPTER 46*
The conversation was a blurred jumbled mess. I don't remember much of what they said.

A suspected gas leak. Remains found. Uncle David.

They'd identified him already through dental records because with the fire there hadn't been much left...

I felt numb. A part of me had known this was coming. I blinked and nodded numbly up at them. They apologized for my loss. Their expressions twin looks of sympathy, regret.

They asked me what I remembered of the accident. I mumbled responses that I wouldn't remember later. Distantly I heard the water in the shower turning off. The bathroom door crashed open as Malcolm came dashing back into the room. I don't know what he was expecting, but he blinked around with brows raised, still covered in a layer of water that had his clothes plastered to his skin.

I shot him a numb, questioning look, but then I felt the way my heart was rapidly pounding in my chest and I realized what had had him bolting back into the room. I think one of the police officers said something, but I didn't catch it, mind still fuzzy.

Uncle David is dead.

They'd found his remains.

He was gone.

And I was alone.

Alone.

My mind was stuck on that, repeating over and over, though I tried to get it to focus. Tried to force myself back to the conversation at hand. Malcolm said a few things to the police officers before ushering them out of the room. They spoke at the door for a few moments, and I didn't catch what they said, just the low hum of their voices.

The door to the room closed and Malcolm was back. Hovering near the foot of the bed. I felt his eyes, though I couldn't quite force myself to meet his gaze.

I picked at my dry skin on my hands, licking at my dry lips, feeling like I should say something, "My uncle..." I started but couldn't quite finish. Couldn't quite make myself say the words.

Malcolm must have sensed that because he hurried to finish for me, "I know."

A distant part of me wondered if I should be crying. I'd cried when my mom had died—couldn't stop crying. Now though, my eyes felt bone dry. I wasn't sure if that were worse.

I felt his eyes on me for another moment and then he moved back to the seat he'd taken over the last day. He sat on the edge of my hospital bed, reaching out to pat my leg stiffly, "I'm sorry, Kassie."

The chair scraped as he pulled it a little closer to my bed. He grabbed the remote from the side table and the sound of the TV filled the room, a game show playing out on the screen. Grateful for any distraction from my chaotic looping thoughts, I stared up at the flashing colors and moving figures.

Malcolm held out one of his coffee cups till it was practically under my nose until I took it. The paper cup warmed my cold fingers and a single sip of the bitter liquid cleared my head of anything else so I took another. And another until the cup was empty. Malcolm wordlessly took the empty cup from my hand, his fingers brushing mine, and got us both refills. The sound of the show keeping my mind present, kept it from going back to its chaotic loop of cycling thoughts.

The coffee he brought me this time had milk and sugar—the way I always made it for myself. The perfect amount. The chair groaned as he lowered himself back into his seat.

"Nectarine." He said.

My eyes flicked to him, confused. He motioned to the screen, just as the answer for the question came up for one of the game show questions. Nectarine. I took another sip of my coffee as he said a few more answers for the show.

"Marie Antoinette." I murmured in answer to the next question that popped up on the screen. The answer was right. The look Malcolm shot me was impressed.

"Lucky guess." He said.

I scoffed, taking the bait.

And that is how we spent the early hours of the morning. Malcolm distracting me, and me letting him.

By the time the Pembroke's knocked on my hospital room door, I was well on my way to feeling somewhat like myself again. I didn't want to think about how large of a part Malcolm had played in that. They entered the room, toting containers of food, the smell of baked breads and yeast filling the room.

After Jenna's visit that morning, I had been planning on them stopping by the hospital, but what I hadn't been expecting was the flash of red hair I saw pop around the corner behind Caleb. Lauren's tall, slim figure made it across the room in two long strides before she launched herself at me. Her arms snaked around me in a hug so tight it pushed the air out of my lungs.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" She mumbled into my shoulder, voice muffled against me. Her red curls puffed in my face, tickling my nose.

I tried to respond, but all I managed was a wheezing cough and she immediately jerked away, shifting her weight onto the open space on the mattress next to me, "Sorry! I'm hurting you!"

I took in a lung full of air now that her weight had been lifted off my stomach, "No! You didn't hurt me at all, I was just surprised."

"Liar," She grinned at me, but it didn't reach her eyes, as her gaze raked over what I'm sure was the pitiful sight of me in a hospital bed.

"I'm so glad you're here," I reached out with my hand that wasn't tangled in wires to grab onto hers. Her warm perfectly manicured hand was a comfortable, familiar weight in my own. I squeezed her fingers with my own, to distract her from her morbid thoughts, "How did this happen, though? Did you all come together?" I looked over to where Jenna was setting out boxes of food, Malcolm and Caleb had left the room and were now pulling in some plastic chairs from the hall.

The distraction seemed to work, the blue in her eyes lighting up, "Well, when you didn't return my phone calls and texts yesterday—for good reason, I know that now—I went over to the house I knew you were staying at to make sure you were okay. I've been a bit paranoid with all of the murder stuff going on and then you passing out at work. Well, anyway, when I got there, I ran into Jenna who told me what had happened," she took a deep breath and leaned in closer until I smelled the vanilla scent of her perfume. She lowered her voice, face turning serious again as she said, "Kassie, I'm so, so sorry. I heard about your uncle. Are you okay?"

Something about seeing my best friend looking at me with concern had hot prickles forming in the back of my throat. Still, no tears came, my eyes bone dry as I nodded slowly. "It's been a lot to take in," I admitted, my eyes dropping to where our hands were joined between us, focusing on a freckle on my wrist, "The police came by to tell me only a few hours ago."

Her dark brows scrunched together, "It's a miracle you're alright. Did the police say if they have any idea how it happened?"

"They said something about a gas leak," I said slowly, trying to recall what the police had told me. "I can't remember exactly what they said though."

"A gas leak?" She asked slowly.

"What?" I asked, confused by the strange expression on her face.

She blinked up at me, shaking off whatever thoughts had taken over, "It's nothing, you don't need to worry about any of that right now. I shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine," I whispered, my brows lifting, "Just tell me what you were thinking just now."

Her eyes flicked over to where the Pembroke's were talking quietly to each other at the table, trying to give us a semblance of privacy as they were setting out what looked like turkey sandwiches and napkins onto paper plates. I knew better than to assume that Malcolm and Caleb weren't eavesdropping, but whatever Lauren had to say, I didn't mind if they heard, so I let her believe the false sense of privacy.

"It's just," she cleared her throat delicately, lips flattening into a tight line, to where I could barely make out the pink of her lips before she spoke again, "I looked up local news articles about your house while we were driving over, and...your house is completely gone Kass. From the pictures, all there is left is a patch of ash. No standing structure at all. It's just...I've never heard of a gas leak doing something like that before."