“You’ve wandered so far from the person you are. Let go brother, let go, cause now we all know.”
- Keane (The Frog Prince)
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Despite the Maid of Time’s estimation, Hannah awoke on her best friend’s couch in the middle of the night. Her eyes were still red from tears that both were and were not her own. Still, despite it being almost three in the morning, she needed to tell her parents something.
…
An hour later, Richard Honey had arrived at the Barlowe residence on the other side of town. He waited in the driveway as his daughter said goodbye and thank you to her best friend and her older brother. Before long, she appeared from the front door of the building and took her place in the car’s passenger seat.
“Thanks Dad.”
“Sure thing kiddo. Always happy to help.”
At this, he noticed the tear stains on her face. For the past three years, their relationship had been strange and strained. Tame on the surface, yet confusing the more he thought about it. He had never seen her cry since that night with the gun.
“Hannah, are you alright?”
The question overwhelmed her a bit. She couldn’t quite gauge the scope and weight that he was asking this question with. But before she could let her thoughts spiral further, she decided to answer as simply as she could.
She wiped her eyes, “I’m… okay. In fact… I think I’m more okay than I was yesterday, if that makes sense. Thanks again for picking me up.”
To him, she sounded more content and relaxed than she had been in a long time. To him, her answer was more than her words. “Yeah, of course. You can always count on me and your moth-.”
“Dad, I’m sorry I lost your book!” she blurted out suddenly. For so long she had painted over her words with mundanity and simplicity. She couldn’t remember the last time she spoke genuinely, with the first words that had come to her mind. Her tears began again, now that her deepest guilt was out in the open.
It took Richard a second to respond, as it was arguably one of the last things he expected to hear from his daughter at three in the morning, “What? Hannah, no, no, that’s not your fault. Have you been… blaming yourself for that?”
Through tears she nodded.
“Hannah… No, that’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you. And… I know a lot happened that night, but that book means NOTHING to me compared to you. You know that, don’t you?”
Through tears, she nodded.
“If that book was as important to me as you think it is, I would have locked it up in a safe, brought that safe to the museum, and then locked it up in like… five more safes.” Humor was his favorite way to ease tension in situations like this.
Through tears, she giggled, “That’s ridiculous.”
“Exactly, sweetheart, that’s my point. I assure you that that silly book isn’t anywhere near as important as you thought it was. In fact, I haven’t even thought of that stupid thing until you mentioned it just now.”
“Really?” She asked, smiling.
“Yes, really.”
At this, Hannah felt a contentment that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She hadn’t realized until then just how much she was hanging on to that guilt, and that perhaps, maybe that guilt was what let her into her mind in the first place.
And then, out of habit, Hannah silenced her thoughts, as if waiting for some curt retort to criticize or belittle her again. But for the first time in a long time…
No response.
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