Chapter 2

Olivia Bennett

I opened my eyes in a daze. My vision was blurred at first, but the room gradually came into focus. I was lying in an unfamiliar bed, hooked up to a tangle of wires and machines.

"Where am I?" I asked, my voice raspy.

"Olivia?!" Marcos exclaimed, rushing to my side. "You're awake?"

"Uncle Marcos?" I mumbled. "What are you doing here? Where are Mom and Dad? And where's Mike?"

"Calm down, Liv," Marcos said, his voice trembling. "I'll get the doctor. He'll explain everything." My uncle hurried out of the room—which I now realized was a hospital ward. He returned shortly after with my grandmother. A rush of doctors and nurses followed, swarming the bed to examine me.

Some looked stunned, others teary-eyed, and I couldn't understand any of it. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?" I pleaded.

"You don't remember anything, sweetheart?" Marcos asked gently.

I searched my mind, and slowly, the fragments pieced themselves together.

"The last thing I remember... we were at Mike's graduation party," I stammered. "Then it started pouring. I asked Dad to wait it out, but Mom was tired, so he decided to drive anyway. The road was slick, and the rain was so heavy we could barely see. Out of nowhere, a truck skidded across the lanes and came right at us, and... we crashed!" A sharp pain spiked in my skull. "Ow, my head."

I groaned, reaching up to touch my forehead, only to find it wrapped in thick bandages.

"What happened?" I demanded, panic rising. "Where is my family?"

I looked at Marcos. Tears were streaming down his face. Meanwhile, my grandmother, Margot, stood rigid, staring at me with a stern, unreadable expression.

"Olivia, I'm Miguel," the lead physician said softly. "I need you to stay calm. You've been in a coma for over a month. It's truly a miracle you woke up without any severe brain damage."

"Doctor, tell me—where are my parents and my brother?" I begged. "I want to see them."

Desperation clawed at my chest. I clung to the hope that they were just hurt, recovering in another room just like I was.

"Olivia, I am so incredibly sorry," Miguel said, his expression heavy. "You were the only survivor of the crash. We honestly didn't think you would ever wake up."

"What?" I breathed. "No... That's impossible. This is a sick joke. No... It can't be."

Tears spilled over my cheeks, hot and fast.

"Grandma, tell me he's lying. They're fine, right?" I sobbed.

"No, Liv," Margot replied, her voice ice-cold. "They are dead. The sooner you accept that, the faster you'll recover."

"No!" I wailed. "It's not true! It's not true! I want my family!"

I screamed uncontrollably, thrashing against the bed. Marcos rushed forward, wrapping his arms around me as he broke down with me.

"Shh, Liv, calm down," Marcos choked out. "You have to stay calm. I'm right here with you." His words sounded muffled, distant. I didn't answer.

I was drowning in an ocean of agony. I had lost my loving mother, my gentle father, and my brother—so young, so full of ambition. Mike was the one who deserved to live, not me. I had always been a coward, too afraid to face hurdles or chase my own dreams.

"Doctor, do something!" Marcos shouted. "She's going to hurt herself!"

He pleaded with the staff as I began violently ripping the IV lines and monitor wires from my arms.

"I'm administering a sedative," Miguel ordered. "It's the only way."

"It's not fair! It should have been me!" I shrieked. "Mike had his whole life ahead of him! Why did this happen?! I want to d—"

The words died on my lips as a heavy, artificial exhaustion dragged me under. I plunged into a welcoming darkness—a place with no pain, no loss, and no grief.

One week later.

"Are you sure you're up for this, Liv?" Marcos asked, watching me with concern.

"Yes, Uncle Marcos," I said quietly. "I didn't get to attend their funeral or say goodbye. I need to visit their graves and mourn them on my own. It still doesn't feel real."

"I understand," Marcos sighed. "Go ahead. Take all the time you need to grieve. I'll be waiting at the house so we can talk when you get back."

"Okay. Thank you," I murmured.

I gave him a tight hug, grabbed his car keys, and drove to the cemetery.

Finding their graves wasn't difficult; they were still buried under a mountain of fresh flowers. Everyone in town had loved my family. Mike had been incredibly popular, just like my parents. I was the odd one out—the quiet weirdo who stayed in her corner, lacking friends, big plans, or any real spark.

I sat down in the grass in front of Mike's grave, staring blankly at his headstone. It bore a beautiful photo of him flashing his signature, radiant smile. He had always smiled at life.

"Oh, Mike," I whispered, my voice breaking. "It should be me in the ground, not you. You actually knew what it meant to live."

As I stared at his picture, our last conversation before his graduation party echoed in my mind. "How long are you going to keep giving up on your dreams and hiding who you are just to please everyone else? You only live once, and life is meant to be lived intensely. Don't forget that."

Fresh tears tracked down my cheeks. He was right. He had truly known how to live intensely.

"You're right," I choked out, wiping my face. "You only live once, and life is meant to be lived intensely. And I will live. I'll move forward and find a way to be happy, because I know that's what you and Mom and Dad would want."

I stayed there for over an hour, weeping for everything I had lost, shifting my gaze between his headstone and my parents'. Only when the sky began to darken did I finally force myself to stand.

"For whatever reason, God didn't take me with you," I said to the silent stones. "I don't know why, but I promise I'll make the most of this second chance. I swear, Mike, I'm going to chase my dreams. I don't know how yet, but I'll make it happen."

Right then, a gentle breeze brushed past my face, rustling my hair. Deep down, I knew it was a sign of their approval.

I drove back home feeling marginally lighter. After letting out so much of my pain and speaking to them one last time, I knew I had to keep going.

"Hey, sweetheart. Feeling a little better?" Marcos asked the moment I walked through the front door.

"Yes, Uncle. Much better," I said, stepping into his arms for a hug.

Marcos had always been like a second father to me. Even after he was practically disowned by the family for coming out as gay, Mike and I had never cut ties with him. We texted all the time. I loved him dearly.

"Good thing you're back, Liv." Margot's sharp voice cut through the hall. "We need to have a serious talk. Take your medication and meet me in the living room."

Without waiting for an answer, my grandmother turned on her heel and walked away.

"Come on," Marcos sighed. "Let's get your meds. It's only been two days since you were discharged, and we have to follow the doctor's orders to the letter."

We went to my bedroom, where he handed me the pills. I swallowed them dry without complaint, ignoring the bitter aftertaste.

"All done," I said. "Let's go. Grandma doesn't like to be kept waiting."

We headed downstairs and straight into the living room. We had barely taken a seat on the sofa before Margot launched into it.

"I want you out of this house by tomorrow, Marcos," Margot demanded, her posture rigid. "You have no reason to be here anymore. Olivia is recovering, and your brother is dead. I don't need an effeminate son lingering around and embarrassing me."

"Grandma!" I gasped, horrified. "How can you say something like that? Uncle Marcos can stay in my house for as long as he wants." I grabbed his arm, clinging to him. "You're going to stay, right, Uncle? Please, I need you."

"My house," Margot corrected sharply.

"What did you say?" I asked, frowning in confusion.

"I said this house is mine," Margot stated flatly. "And he is not staying here. Neither are you. I've decided to sell it."

"What?" I shot up from the couch. "What do you mean? This was my dad's house!"

"No," Margot replied coldly. "The deed is in my name. It's my property, and I am putting it on the market. You are coming to live with me, and you will continue working at the store."

"But Grandma, I grew up here!" I pleaded. "All my memories are in these walls. You can't take this away from me. It's all I have left of Mom, Dad, and Mike."

"Memories don't put food on the table," Margot snapped. "I am selling the house, and you are living with me. You'll learn how to manage the store so you can take it over one day. You are my only remaining heir."

I stared at her in sheer outrage. She had just buried her own son, yet she was acting with absolute, ruthless efficiency. Once again, Mike's words echoed in my head.

"How long are you going to keep giving up on your dreams and hiding who you are just to please everyone else? You only live once, and life is meant to be lived intensely. Don't forget that."

"No, Grandma. I'm not living with you," I declared, my voice steadying. "And I'm not working in your store, either. That's not what I want for my life."

It was the first time I had ever truly stood up to her.

She let out a dry, mocking laugh.

"Oh, really?" she sneered. "And where exactly are you going to live? How do you plan to support yourself?"

"She's going to live with me in New York," Marcos intervened, stepping forward.

"With you?" Margot scoffed. "Oh, don't be ridiculous."

"Contrary to what you think, Mother, I'm not a deadbeat," Marcos said, his tone dangerously calm. "When I left this town, Dad helped me. He paid for my education, and today, I'm an executive at one of the biggest tech companies in the world. I live very comfortably. I can easily support Olivia and pay for her tuition, and that is exactly what I'm going to do."

"Your father was always a weakling," Margot spat. "I'm just surprised a company like that would hire someone like you."

"Love has always looked like weakness to you, Grandma," I said, my voice thick with disgust. I turned to my uncle. "Uncle Marcos... I'll go with you."