“Ma’am? Are you okay?”

“Do you need help?”

“Is someone with you?”

“Does she need an ambulance?”

Ignoring them all, I get to my feet and run to my car. The blood orange sun looks like fire in the sky.

I don’t know where I’m going when I get into my car, but I peel out of the lot as fast as I can. I try calling Parker’s cell. I need him.

He doesn’t answer.

I try again. Nothing.

I don’t bother calling the clinic. I know he has a full schedule and the thought of driving to the clinic makes me sick. I can’t be there right now. I’m in no shape for that.

But I don’t want to go home and be alone.

I try Parker’s direct line, but when there’s no answer I drive to Genna’s on instinct.

I’ll keep trying him, but right now I need to focus on the road. The rain comes down harder as I speed up.

I’m not really sure how I get to Genna’s, but I zone back in as I’m pulling into her driveway next to my parents’ car. I forgot they were still here.

The pain won’t stop. The ache in my heart grows stronger as I shut the car off and sit with nothing but the sounds of rain and wind crashing against the windshield. I slump forward over the steering wheel and cry into my hands. My shoulders shake so hard they start to ache.

Suddenly, I’m furious. I hit the steering wheel. “Why!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Why would you take her away? Why?” Pain slices through me, but it doesn’t release any of my agony. It just stays, burning and aching.

I need this feeling to go away. I’m so mad that Amy didn’t tell me what was happening and hurt that she didn’t trust me. Didn’t she think I could handle the news? As my tears continue to fall, I think back to the last few months and how blind I was to it all. The longing looks she gave Ethan, the date nights with Brandon, the lab draws, spending more time with her family, and all this talk about life and embracing fear.

Opening my car door, I run to the house. I’m not sure what I need or who I need at this point. But I know I need to be inside. I need to scream at something—or someone. I need to make the hurt go away.

Laughter comes from the house the second I open the door, but it stops abruptly when I slam the door.

“Hello?” Genna cautiously asks from somewhere inside.

My mom comes to the top of the stairs and sees me. “Dre? Are you okay?”

“No,” I manage to get out, but my voice doesn’t sound like me.

She rushes down the stairs.

“What is it? What happened?”

Genna runs over too.

“Make it stop, please make it stop.”

“What, honey?” my mom asks, rubbing my back.

“The pain.”

“Dre, you’re scaring me. What happened?” Genna asks.

“Amy.” It hurts to even say her name. Knowing she’s no longer here and that this isn’t some terrible nightmare.

“Your friend?” my mom asks, while Genna says, “What happened?”

I nod. “She passed away last night.”

One of them gasps.

“It’s okay, Dre. Deep breaths.” Genna’s voice is soothing. She rubs small, tender circles on my back.

“I can’t. I can’t breathe.” The pain is only increasing.

“Honey, I know this is difficult. But you need to breathe.”

“I can’t!”

“Mom, give her a minute,” Genna instructs. “She just learned her friend died.”

“I understand that, but I need her to calm down.”

They’re talking about me as if I’m not even here.

I cry out as the pain intensifies. “My chest.”

“Sweetie, take deep breaths.”

“I can’t … the pain. Oh my God. Make it stop! I can’t make it stop!”

“I need you to calm down so something doesn’t to happen to you!”

“What?” I croak.

I start to panic, so I put my hands on my knees and bend over, trying to get a breath. But it doesn’t come.

Am I going to end up like Amy? Holy hell. This is a fucking nightmare.

Fear. It’s all around us. It finds a way inside, lodging deep within, refusing to surrender. It latches on, following you on this path called life. The way it makes our bodies tremble through our core, perspire with one thought, or makes our hearts feel as if they’re coming to a standstill, causing all blood flow to rush from our head to our toes. It’s the one word that can instantly cause our breathing to become slow and labored, stirring up the worst emotions within.

Suddenly my chest becomes too tight to bear. My legs go numb and my arms feel weak. My heart is beating too fast and, no matter how much I pray for it to slow, and the tight pain to go away, it doesn’t.

I’m gasping for air. “My chest. It’s too tight.” I claw at my shirt, as if I could rip it off. The once soft fabric now feels like fire, burning away my flesh.

“Mom, I don’t think she’s okay!”

“Aundrea?!”

“I can’t breathe. My ... tight … the pain … it won’t stop. I can’t feel my arms, or …” Oh my God, this is it.

I fall to my knees.

“Is she having a heart attack?” Panicky, Genna stands and yells for my dad.

Every dream I’ve had, every sense of hope—everything I’ve feared is burning them away right before my eyes.