ASMSG Scifi Fantasy Paranormal Emagazine April 2015 | Page 41

She came over to me immediately and pulled me into
a tight hug. I closed my eyes and just melted into her.
I heard the scrape of a chair as it was pulled close, and
she moved slightly away to sit down. She immediately
pulled me close again, smoothing my hair and kissing
the top of my head.
Nana was awesome personified. People often said I
looked like her. While there was some resemblance, I
wasn’t a carbon copy. She was an elegant lady, striking
rather than pretty. In her early fifties, her hair still had
the red from her younger pictures. She kept it stylishly
short. It had faded a bit, though, and I suspected she
hit the highlights because it seemed blonder than the
last time I’d seen her. She had bright green eyes that
just seemed to look right into your soul. Her features
combined into a classic look. The light freckles across
her nose and cheeks only added to that.
Nana’s delicate features were less refined on me. My
nose was slightly crooked from being broken in a bike
accident, and my hair was a pale golden blonde. I did
have her green eyes and freckles, though. I’m sure I
had the same strained, numb look that she had that
night, too. My eyes felt as hollow as hers looked.
“I think we have it sorted out for the most part,”
Brown said to his partner as he handed her a folder.
She read through it. I watched her from the safety of
my grandmother’s arms. Brown watched me.
Green looked up at Nana. “Did you want to do this
in another room?” She gave a small glance at me as
she handed the folder back to Brown. I got the
impression he wasn’t going to take it, but finally he
did.
“No,” Nana said as she shook her head. “She might
as well hear it now.”
Brown sat back down, taking a deep breath. His voice
was firm, but quiet. “Mrs. Roberts, Fiona, there was
an accident on the freeway. The rain made the road
slick. One of the plastic barrels at an off-ramp lost
enough of its weight somehow that the wind picked it
up and blew it onto the freeway. The safety barrel got
caught in one of the wheels of a gas tanker. The
driver lost control, and his rig jack-knifed across the
lanes of traffic. When a panel truck hit the trailer, it
exploded, even though it was nearly empty. The
smoke and debris formed a wall that the other cars

simply couldn’t avoid.” He stopped, looking down at
the folder.
“How many?” prompted Nana.
Brown paused. “As near as we can tell right now,
there were twenty-seven vehicles involved.” His
horror was palpable as he set the folder on the table.
“Oh, dear god,” breathed Nana.
Green picked up the folder. “Your daughter’s car was
in the last wave that hit. We identified most of the
vehicles from their license plates, once we had the fire
under control. We’re still recovering the victims. It all
happened very quickly, according to our witnesses.”
She paused and held Nana’s gaze. “We are very, very
sorry for your loss. Is there anything we can do for
you?”
Nana continued to hold on tight to me. “Is it possible
to call a cab for us?”
Green spoke up, “That won’t be necessary, ma’am.
We’ll drive you home.”
That night, the house had lost the feeling of home
already. I had just crawled into bed when the
realization hit me, and it hit me hard: I was never
going to see my parents again. I covered my mouth
with my hands to hold in the wail that wanted to tear
screaming from my throat. My door flew open, and
Nana was there.
My body was shaking from the huge sobs that broke
as she gathered me in her arms and held me tight. I
could feel her sobs as we mourned together. I have
no idea how long it lasted, but we finally cried
ourselves out.
Nana pulled my blankets and pillows from the bed,
and we took them into the family room. She brought
in more pillows and blankets, and we made a nest on
the large sofa, sipping hot chocolate.
I was curled up and drifting off to sleep, when I felt a
familiar touc h brush my forehead and hair. Mom had
done that when I was a little kid. For a moment or
two, I even thought it was my mom. I half opened my
eyes to see Nana looking into the distance with an
unreadable expression. The thought that she had once
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