Chapter 6: Quiet Hours, Loud Truths

During Grace’s treatment in Columbus, I took all my overtime and annual leave.

I barely saw my apartment—every hour was spent at the hospital, holding Savannah’s hand, reading to Grace. Nurses smiled, assuming I was family, and I wrestled with parking validation and vending machines that took cards like silent friends.

Everyone in the ward thought I was Grace’s father.

I let it slide. A volunteer asked, and I almost corrected her, then didn’t. The kindness felt like a shelter we both needed.

That night, Grace fell asleep early. Savannah and I walked to the end of the hospital corridor.

The floor was quiet, “Quiet Hours” signs posted, shadows stretching long. The intercom pinged a distant announcement, and we stopped by the vending machine with two sodas, letting the world outside fade.

I asked the question that had bothered me for years: “Savannah, I’m really curious—why did you marry Travis?”

She paused, looking at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts. The silence was heavy, filled with old ghosts.

She said, “No reason. I married him because I liked him.”

She spoke softly, almost to herself. I watched her face, searching for cracks in her armor.

“Was it because of what happened with Cameron?” I asked.

The name hung between us, electric. Savannah’s jaw tightened, her eyes darkening.

Savannah’s face twitched. “Who told you that?”

Her voice was brittle, defensive. I hesitated, unsure how far to push.

I thumbed an unlit cigarette and gave a bitter smile:

The smoke I imagined curled upward, memories thickening. I couldn’t stop now, not after all these years.

“So it was because of that. Well, since it’s tonight, let me tell you the truth. That night during study hall, you and Cameron didn’t come back at all. I worried for ages. When you came back, you acted strange. I asked you, but you ignored me. I had to ask Travis. He said you went to Cameron’s birthday, he got drunk and kissed you, and you got mad. I was furious. Later, I found a chance, waited for Cameron on his way back to the dorm, and bashed his head in.”

Savannah actually looked relieved.

Her shoulders dropped, tension easing. I realized how heavy the secret had weighed on both of us.

I went on, “After that, the school launched a big investigation. Travis and I went to the restroom to talk about turning ourselves in. He wouldn’t let me. He said I had a future and couldn’t go down for this—he would go instead. Looking back, he still won—he got to marry you.”

I tried to laugh, but the sound caught in my throat. Savannah’s eyes glistened, sympathy and regret swirling together.

Savannah said, “I already knew all that. Want to hear the real truth?”

Her voice was steady, but I could see her hands tremble. I nodded, bracing myself.

I pocketed the cigarette. “The real truth?”

Sure enough, Travis had lied to me about that night.

The world tilted, old certainties unraveling. I waited, heart pounding.

Savannah said, “That night, Cameron said it was his birthday and invited me to his house. We’d always gotten along, so I agreed. Later, he said his cousin was throwing a party at a karaoke place, so we went there instead. Cameron’s cousin was a thug. As soon as he saw me, he kept pouring drinks and egging Cameron on to hug and kiss me. The lights were dizzying. Cameron started reaching under my clothes… Later, I blacked out and woke up alone in a hotel room. I couldn’t remember anything. The only thing I remembered was the last song they sang, ‘Here Comes the Sun.’ I didn’t know who to turn to. If I told my parents, they’d kill me. I called Travis. He took me back to school and told me, ‘You just focus on the SAT. I’ll handle the rest.’”

Her voice broke, tears glistening on her cheeks. I wanted to reach for her, but the distance between us felt insurmountable.

Savannah’s lips trembled as she spoke.

She squeezed her soda can, knuckles white. I held my breath, waiting for her to finish.

Every word burned me like a cigarette. I tried not to imagine what had happened.

The pain twisted inside me, sharp and unforgiving. I wished I’d known, wished I’d been there.

She continued, “A few days after I got back to school, I found out I was pregnant. I wanted to get an abortion—no matter who the father was, it wasn’t what I wanted… But the OB-GYN said my uterine wall was so thin, an abortion could kill me. I had no choice. I called Travis. Two days later, he told me to drop out and marry him. He said it was the only way to protect my reputation and let the child grow up healthy. We looked into Planned Parenthood and the state’s consent laws, but the risk was too high.”

Her confession hung in the air. I felt the weight of it settle on my shoulders, crushing and unrelenting.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked.

I stared at my shoes, throat tight. “I’m sorry,” I added, too late and too small.

She said, “I knew you had dreams, a future. I couldn’t drag you down.”

She smiled softly, regret flickering. I wanted to protest, but the words wouldn’t come.

I looked at the lights of Columbus, then at the worn-out Savannah. Which was my real dream?

The city glittered outside, alive with possibility. I wondered if my dreams were worth the sacrifices others had made for me.

“So later, when he cheated and gambled, you weren’t mad?” I asked.

The question felt childish, but I needed to know.

She gave a bitter smile: “Of course I was mad about the gambling. But about cheating, you all misunderstood him. Before marrying me, he was already with that karaoke manager. To marry me, he broke up with her—the relationship ended before the wedding. So really, I was the other woman. You all cursed him for not being human, for not being there when I gave birth. But if you count the dates, Grace was full-term. I told him not to come—I wanted to do it alone. We misread the dates back then.”

Her logic was harsh, but honest. I saw her in a new light, stronger than I’d ever realized.

Finally, the broken bead was back in place—everything connected, but my mind was a mess. I started to doubt my own memories.

The past rewrote itself, piece by piece. I struggled to find my footing, wondering who I really was.

I always thought I was the one who saw things clearly, who held the truth, who bore the heaviest burden.

Turns out, I was just the blind witness, always one step behind, protected from the hardest blows.

But in the end, I was the most clueless. Everyone protected me—at every turning point, I was left out, the only outsider.

It stung, realizing how much they’d kept from me. I wondered if they thought I was weak, or just too hopeful for this world.

“Why does no one tell me anything? Do you all think I’m useless?” I asked.

My voice cracked. Savannah reached for my hand, and the squeeze lingered.

Savannah looked at me. “No, it’s because you’re too pure. You’re different from us. You have dreams, and you’re chasing them, step by step, from a small town to Columbus. We’re already stuck in the mud. You’re still trying to fly. How could we drag you down?”

Her words washed over me, bittersweet and kind. I heard the echo of height and ground—planes and towers—in the way we lived.

I remembered that group fight, at sunset, when Marcus and Travis crouched down so I could climb over the fence. I climbed to the top of the bell tower alone, and they waved from below.