Page 115 of Requiem

Matthew 46

We’re less than a half hour away when Brett’s phone rings, breaking the silence that has filled the car in the last hour. He looks at the screen.

“Who the hell is this now?” he mutters and puts the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

He listens for a long moment, his brows drawing together.

“Where are you?”

Another long pause.

“What?” I ask impatiently. “What is it?”

He holds up one of the fingers on the hand that’s steering the car, telling me to wait.

“Yes, of course.”

Pause.

“Yes, I understand.”

With a quick tap, the caller is gone, and Brett is looking at me. He flips on the turn signal, and pulls into a deserted supermarket parking lot.

“What? Why are we stopping?”

“That was Tony …” he begins.

“Tony? Why was he calling you? Why didn’t he call me …”

The answer to my own question knocks the wind from my lungs. There’s only one reason he would want to talk to Brett first. I frantically fumble with the lock on my door and manage to get it open just in time to hang my head out of the car and vomit onto the asphalt.

“Matthew! Matthew, she’s not dead,” he’s explaining, but I can hardly hear him above my own retching.

“Matthew,” he tries again, when I’ve dragged myself back into the car. “Listen to me. I need you to show me how to get to Mather Hospital. That’s where Julia will be.”

“Oh, God. Is she … is she alright?”

“Matthew, I can’t lie to you, I don’t know. All he’d say is that she’s in pretty bad shape and that I should get you to the hospital. Maggie’s on her way out to your house on the train. As soon as she gets there, he’ll come right to the hospital to tell you everything. He doesn’t want to leave my mother there alone with the police.”

“The police?” I think I’m going to be sick again. Then I realize, there’s someone not accounted for. “What about …”

I don’t finish the sentence, but he knows what I’m asking.

“Dead,” he says simply. “My brother is dead.”

Brett looks away from me and out the car window.

“I’ll stay with you at the hospital until Tony comes, then I’ll go back to the house, too. The three of us will take care of things there and look after David until … well, until we know what’s going on with Julia.”

“I think … I think that’s a good plan, Brett,” I say.

It’s clear that he’s feeling conflicted. For, as much as Jeremy is – was – a monster, he was still Brett’s flesh and blood. This is still a loss for him, and his mother.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur so softly, that I’m not even certain he has heard me. But then, he turns to face me again.

“I’m not.”