Secrets [5] Echoes: Part One by A.M Hudson

running late because of that accident on the interstate.”
    “Trust you to think of everything.” I winked at him and accepted the call, but before I said hello, a loud sob on the other end spread my world out, and my soul drew backward from my body with a sudden sense of dread. “Vicki?”
    Jason moved in beside me.
    “Ara?” she said in such a weak tone that I lowered the phone slowly and looked up at Mike, quick, shallow breaths coming through my cold lips.
    As he snatched the phone, I backed into Jason’s arms, helpless but to watch as Mike nodded, answered, nodded again and said, “Yes, we’ll be there in two hours,” and pressed end on the call, his thumb staying on the screen, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. And it was in the way he looked at me—in the way his lip twitched to speak that said everything. I didn’t need him to say it. I didn’t want him to say it.
    “No,” I pleaded, shaking my head.
    He glanced at David for a long moment, pinching his lips between his thumb and finger, blurring like a reflection on a lake under the hot tears coating my eyes.
    “It’s better coming from you,” David said.
    Mike reached out and grabbed me suddenly, pulling me into his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby. He passed away an hour ago.”
    “No,” I cried, as if my words might somehow change things. As if I might scream and kick and throw things and slam my door and it might make it all go away—make them change it—take it back. I tried to take a breath, but my lungs wouldn't expand. I couldn’t breathe at all. Couldn’t smell Mike anymore, couldn’t feel the wind on my face. My dad was gone. Gone. His smile, his warm eyes, his hugs that would make everything seem okay, no matter how shitty it was. All gone. But I needed him. I needed to go home and tell him I’d been so sad lately. I needed to tell him David didn’t turn out to be the man I thought he was, and I just needed Dad to tell me it would all be okay in the end.
    Mike’s firm, strong hands cupped my arms and squeezed softly, as if he thought he could save me with his touch. “It’s okay, Ara—”
    “It’s not okay,” I sobbed into his shirt. “It’s never gonna be okay now.”
    “Ara,” a smooth, gentle voice whispered, and a familiar cool touch came down gently against my lower back. “Come inside—”
    “Get off me!” I shoved an elbow into his chest. “I don’t want you near me.”
    David jumped back with both hands raised defensively, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I just—”
    “Just don’t have any right,” I screamed, facing him, my fists tight, my face hot and soaked. The anger flooded my soul, transforming the heat into agony, until Mike wrapped both of his big heavy arms over my shoulders and pressed his lips into my cheek, whispering to me as we rocked from side-to-side.
    “I never got to tell him,” I whimpered. “I never got to tell him about the baby. He would've—”
    “Shh.” He brushed my hair flat to my head. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
    I reached out and held on to Jason’s sleeve as he moved back in beside me. “How could this have happened? He … he was fine. I was going to see him. He was fine.”
    “I know you can’t possibly believe this right now, Ara,” Jason said, bending slightly to meet my eyes. “But you’re okay. Everything will be okay. You—”
    “Oh, God.” I stepped away from Mike and folded over, holding my gut. “I can’t breathe. I can't breathe.”
    Jason pushed me firmly by the arms, walking me backward until I sat heavily on the step. “You don’t need to think about breathing, sweet girl. Just let the pain run through you. Let yourself cry right now. Your body will breathe on its own.”
    The air entered my lungs then in a shaken, heartbroken sob, so loud and so distraught that David came to sit beside me. He laid a hand to my knee and tilted my chin upward with the other, thumbing a line of tears from my cheek. “I’ll come with