Kalliope 2014.pdf May. 2014 | Page 114

Her mother, though obviously pretty out of it, looks her in the eyes again. “I love you, Penelope. I promise things will change, honey,” In that moment, there’s a sudden kind of release that happens in me. Like every one of those muscles that I was just using relaxes, and I’m all tingly. It almost sounds unpleasant, and it might have been, but I know what it means. There’s nothing more bittersweet. Penelope starts to follow the medics outside to the ambulance, no doubt going with her mother to the hospital, but as she gets to the door she stops, slow and catlike. Her head starts a reluctant rotation to where I’m now standing, but when she stops, her eyes don’t meet mine. Those baby blues are still searching, eyebrows drawn together, and her nose is scrunched like she’s forgetting something but can’t seem to remember what it might be. Then she turns her back to me and walks out the door. Ah, there’s the breathtaking clench in the lungs. The feeling that my insides are shattering into a million tiny pieces. There’s an overwhelming heat, and I’m burning, leaving no traces behind. And through it all, I can’t help but smile. Boy, will I have a story to tell them this time. 112