I ran the entire way home.

By the time I reached my street, my lungs were burning, my legs hurt, and the cold air scraped against the inside of my throat every time I tried to breathe. I should have slowed down. I should have stopped for a second and remembered that I had a car sitting in my driveway and that running until I nearly collapsed wasn't going to get me to Riley any faster. None of that mattered. The only thing I could think about was Willow's message glowing on my phone and the words that had been repeating themselves inside my head with every step I took.

We're at the hospital. Riley is safe. He asked for you when we got here.

Riley was safe. Riley had asked for me. Riley had told his family what he had done, and now they were at the hospital. I didn't know what was happening there. I didn't know what the doctors were saying to him or what his family had said when they found out. I didn't know whether Riley was scared or angry or confused. I didn't know if he regretted telling them. I didn't know anything except that he had asked for me, and apparently that was enough to make my body believe I could run faster than I ever had in my entire life.

I nearly tripped over the edge of the sidewalk when I reached my driveway. I caught myself against the side of Dad's car, gasped for air, and immediately started searching my pockets for my keys. My fingers were shaking too badly to find them at first, and I cursed under my breath as I searched one pocket and then the other.

The front door opened before I found them.

"Autumn?"

I looked up.

Mom stood in the doorway, and one look at my face was enough to make her expression change.

"What happened?"

I finally found my keys and nearly dropped them as I pulled them from my pocket. "I have to go."

Mom stepped onto the porch. "Go where?"

"The hospital."

The words brought everyone else into the room almost immediately. Dad appeared behind Mom. Harper and Brooklyn came from the living room, and Hudson looked around the corner with a piece of toast still in his hand.

"What happened?" Dad asked.

"I don't know."

The answer came out too quickly and too breathlessly.

Mom walked down the porch steps toward me. "Autumn, slow down. What do you mean you don't know?"

"I went to Riley's house, and no one was there. The house was empty, and the journal was open on the counter."

Mom froze.

She didn't know about the journal.

None of them did.

I saw the confusion cross her face, but there wasn't time to explain all of it. I didn't even know how to explain it. How was I supposed to stand in my driveway and explain that the boy I had loved for years had written goodbye notes to everyone he cared about? How was I supposed to tell them that the car accident we had all been grieving had never actually been an accident?

"What journal?" Harper asked.

"Riley's."

"What was in it?"

"I can't explain everything right now."

My voice shook.

"I just can't. Riley wrote things before the accident. Goodbye notes. He wrote goodbye notes to everyone, and the accident wasn't—"

I stopped.

The words refused to come out.

Everyone stared at me.

Dad's face changed first. "What do you mean, goodbye notes?"

My eyes filled with tears.

"I mean the accident wasn't an accident."

The silence that followed was horrible.

Mom pressed one hand over her mouth. Brooklyn stared at me. Harper's face went pale, and Hudson looked between all of us, clearly confused.

Dad took a step closer. "Autumn."

"He did it on purpose."

My voice broke.

"He went out that night knowing he didn't think he was coming back."

Mom whispered my name.

"I didn't know." I shook my head quickly. "I swear I didn't know. Riley didn't remember. I didn't know until we found the journals. He asked me to read one because he didn't want to read it himself, and I found the notes."

"How long have you known?" Harper asked softly.

"A couple of days."

Brooklyn's eyes widened. "Autumn."

"I couldn't tell anyone."

"You've been carrying that by yourself?"

"No. Riley knows."

"That's not what I meant."

I looked away.

Of course she knew that.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to continue. "He told his family this morning. I don't know exactly what happened, but they took him to the hospital. Willow said no one forced him. Riley asked to go. She said he's safe."

Mom closed her eyes briefly.

Then I said the part that mattered most.

"He asked for me."

Everyone looked at me.

My voice softened. "When they got there, he asked for me."

Mom's face broke a little.

I looked down at my keys. "I have to go."

Dad reached into his pocket. "I'll drive you."

"No."

"Autumn."

"I can drive."

"You just ran all the way here, you're crying, and your hands are shaking."

I looked down.

They were.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"I need to go now."

"And I can get you there."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Mom touched my arm. "Let him drive you."

I looked at her.

"He's right."

"I don't want everyone coming."

"We're not." Dad walked toward his car. "I'm taking you there. That's all."

I hesitated. Every part of me wanted to argue. Every part of me wanted to get into my own car and drive as fast as I could. Then I looked down at my shaking hands.

"Fine."

Dad unlocked the car.

I turned toward Mom. She immediately hugged me.

"Call me."

"I will."

"I mean it."

"I know."

She pulled back and held my face between her hands. "And, Autumn?"

"What?"

"You don't have to fix this."

My throat tightened. "I know."

But I didn't.

Not really.

Because somewhere along the way, Riley's pain had started feeling like something I should have seen. Something I should have noticed. Something I should have stopped. I had been his best friend. I had known him since we were five years old. I had been there for nearly every important moment of his life.

How had I not known? How had I stood beside him for years and never realized he was drowning?

I pulled away before I started crying again and climbed into Dad's car.

The drive to the hospital felt longer than the entire nineteen years of my life. Dad didn't ask questions, and I was grateful for that. He drove while I sat in the passenger seat with my phone clutched between both hands, staring at Willow's messages.

Riley is safe.

I read it again.

Then again.

Then again.

Safe. He was safe.

But the word didn't mean what it used to anymore.

Before Riley's accident, safe had been simple. Safe meant alive. Safe meant breathing. Safe meant coming home at night. Now I knew better. Someone could be alive and not be safe from themselves. Someone could laugh with you and not be safe. Someone could take pictures and tease their sister and hold your shaking hands and not be safe.

Someone could be your entire world, and you could have no idea that theirs was falling apart.

I turned my face toward the window.

"How did I not know?"

Dad's hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel. He didn't pretend not to understand.

"I don't know."

"I was with him all the time." I whispered.

"I know."

"He told me everything."

Dad was quiet.

"At least I thought he did." My voice broke.

I looked down at my phone.

"I thought I knew him better than anyone."

"You probably did."

I turned toward him. "Then how did I miss this?"

Dad glanced at me before looking back at the road. "Knowing someone better than anyone else doesn't mean knowing everything they're hiding."

I swallowed. "But I should have seen something."

"Maybe there were things you saw that you didn't understand."

I thought about Riley's journal. The drawings. The poetry. The picture of someone drowning.

It feels like drowning every day and nobody seeing it.

My eyes burned. "He literally wrote that nobody saw him."

Dad didn't answer.

"I didn't see him." My voice was barely a whisper.

"Autumn."

"I didn't."

"You loved him."

"That wasn't enough."

The words came out before I could stop them.

Dad went quiet.

I turned toward the window again.

Maybe that was what hurt most. I had loved Riley for years. I had loved him loudly inside my own heart even when I was too afraid to say it aloud. I had memorized the sound of his laugh. I knew which foods he hated and which songs he played when he couldn't sleep. I knew how he took his coffee. I knew when he was lying about being tired and when he was pretending not to be annoyed. I knew what his face looked like when he was trying not to laugh. I knew when he needed space and when he wanted someone to stay even though he would never ask.

I knew everything.

Except the one thing that mattered.

I didn't know he wanted to die.

I pressed my forehead against the cold window.

For the rest of the drive, neither of us spoke. When we finally reached the hospital, Dad pulled up near the entrance.

"I can come in."

I shook my head. "I need to do this alone."

He looked at me. "Are you sure?"

"No."

That made something change in his expression.

"But I still need to."

He nodded. "Call me when you need a ride."

"I have my car at home."

"I know."

I looked at him.

He smiled sadly. "Call me anyway."

I nodded and got out.

The hospital looked exactly the same as it had days ago, and I hated that. The same automatic doors opened in front of me. The same smell of disinfectant and coffee filled the air. The same fluorescent lights glowed above my head.

For one horrible second, I was back there.

The phone call. The waiting room. The hospital bed.

Who are you?

I stopped walking.

My chest tightened.

Not now. I couldn't do this now.

I forced myself forward.

Willow had texted me where they were waiting, and I followed the signs through hallways that seemed to stretch forever. Every corner I turned made my heart beat faster. Every person in scrubs made me wonder if they knew Riley. Every closed door made me wonder if he was behind it.

Then I saw them.

I stopped.

Willow was the first person I noticed.

She looked absolutely wrecked.

There was no other way to describe it.

I had known Willow almost my entire life. I had seen her cry at movies. I had seen her cry when Lydia graduated. I had seen her cry when Milo was born. I had seen her cry in the hospital after Riley's accident.

But I had never seen her like this.

Her hair, usually neat even when she claimed she hadn't done anything with it, was pulled messily away from her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her cheeks were blotchy from crying. She sat hunched forward in one of the waiting room chairs with both hands wrapped around a crumpled tissue.

She looked smaller.

That was what hurt.

Willow had always seemed like one of those people who could make any room feel safe. She could fix almost anything with food, blankets, and the right words. She had spent years taking care of everyone around her. If I had a bad day, Willow somehow knew. If Riley and I fought, she would feed us both and wait until we stopped being stubborn. If Milo was sick, she stayed awake all night beside him. If Lydia cried, Willow held her until there were no tears left.

Now she looked like someone had taken every safe place she had ever built and destroyed them all at once.

Kai sat beside her.

He looked almost as bad.

His face was pale, and his eyes were red, but he wasn't crying. Not anymore. He sat straight. Too straight. His hands were clasped together so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

He was trying to be strong.

I knew that immediately.

He was trying to be strong for Willow. For Lydia. For Milo. For Riley. Maybe even for himself.

But I could see it anyway.

The fear. The grief.

The horrible realization that his son had been hurting badly enough to try to leave them, and none of them had known.

Kai had always been quieter than Willow. He didn't fill rooms with words or affection the same way she did, but he loved just as loudly in his own way. He was the kind of father who checked the locks twice every night. The kind who silently fixed things before anyone noticed they were broken. The kind who pretended he wasn't waiting up when one of his children came home late, even though the living room lamp was always on.

Now he sat there looking like he had finally found something he couldn't fix.

Lydia was sitting on Willow's other side.

She was a wreck.

She wasn't crying quietly or trying to hide it. Her face was swollen and red, and she sat curled into herself with one arm wrapped around her stomach while she wiped at her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. Her hair had fallen messily around her face, and every few seconds, she squeezed her eyes shut like she could stop herself from crying if she tried hard enough.

She looked furious.

Heartbroken.

Terrified.

All at once.

I knew Lydia loved Riley. Of course I did. They argued constantly. They annoyed each other. She insulted him, and he irritated her for entertainment. They stole each other's food and blamed each other for things neither of them had done.

But they loved each other.

And now Lydia knew her little brother had written her a goodbye note.

I couldn't imagine what that felt like.

Actually, I could.

That was the problem.

Milo sat beside Kai. He looked mostly confused. His little legs swung slightly above the floor, and he held a stuffed animal against his chest. I didn't recognize it. Maybe someone at the hospital had given it to him.

He looked from Willow to Kai to Lydia like he was trying to understand why everyone was so upset.

And that hurt almost as much as everything else.

He was too young.

Too young to understand goodbye notes. Too young to understand why his brother had gotten into a car that night. Too young to understand why everyone kept crying.

But he understood enough to know something was wrong.

His eyes were sad. Scared.

I stood there staring at them.

My second family.

Broken.

Because of a truth none of us had known.

Then Willow looked up. She saw me. Her entire face crumpled. "Autumn."

I barely had time to move before she stood.

I ran to her. She wrapped her arms around me so tightly I could barely breathe. Then she sobbed. Willow sobbed against my shoulder.

I froze for a second because I didn't know what to do.

Willow was supposed to comfort me.

That sounded terrible. Selfish. But it was true.

Willow had been comforting me since I was five years old. When I fell and scraped my knees, Willow cleaned them. When Riley and I fought, Willow listened to both sides even though she always told us we were both being ridiculous. When I had anxiety attacks at their house, Willow sat with me until Riley could calm me down.

Willow was the person who held everyone else together. Now I was holding her.

"I didn't know." Her voice broke against my shoulder. "I didn't know, Autumn."

My eyes filled with tears. "I know."

"How did I not know?"

I closed my eyes because I had asked myself the same question the entire drive there.

"I don't know."

"He's my baby."

That destroyed me.

I held her tighter.

"He's my baby, and I didn't know."

I started crying. "I'm sorry."

Willow pulled back so quickly that I almost stumbled. "No." She shook her head. "No, sweetheart. Why are you apologizing?"

"I should have known."

"You should not have known."

"I was his best friend."

"And I'm his mother."

Her voice broke.

We stared at each other.

Two people who had loved Riley more than anything. Two people who thought love should have been enough to see what he was hiding.

Neither of us had.

Willow pulled me against her again, and for a while, we just cried. I didn't know how long we stood there. I didn't know if people were looking at us. I didn't care.

Eventually, I felt someone wrap their arms around us.

Lydia.

She buried her face against my shoulder.

"I hate him."

The words were muffled.

I closed my eyes. "I know."

"I hate him so much."

"I know."

"I love him."

"I know."

Her arms tightened. "I hate him because I love him."

I cried harder. "I know."

Kai stood and walked toward us slowly. His face was still pale, and for a moment, I thought he might say something. Instead, he pulled all three of us into his arms. That was when he finally broke. I heard it. The smallest sound. A broken breath.

Then Kai started crying too.

The four of us stood there holding each other, and I realized there was something uniquely terrible about hearing someone like Kai cry. Willow cried openly. Lydia cried loudly. I cried so often lately that I barely knew how to stop.

Kai didn't.

Kai was supposed to be steady. He was supposed to be the person everyone leaned on. Now he was shaking too.

Milo stayed sitting in his chair. I looked at him over Kai's shoulder. He was watching us. His bottom lip trembled.

"Is Riley going to die?"

Everything stopped.

Willow pulled away so quickly she nearly stumbled.

"No." She rushed toward him and dropped to her knees. "No, baby."

Milo's eyes filled with tears. "Then why is everyone crying?"

Willow grabbed his little hands. "Because Riley was very sad."

"Why?"

She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

Milo looked at Kai.

Then Lydia.

Then me.

"Why was he sad?"

I looked away.

Because none of us knew. Not really.

Milo hugged the stuffed animal tighter.

"Did I make him sad?"

Willow broke again. "No." She grabbed him and pulled him against her. "No, Milo. Never. Never, ever."

He started crying. "I don't want Riley to be sad."

"I know."

"Can I see him?"

Willow looked at Kai. Kai wiped his face.

"Not yet, buddy."

"Why?"

"Because he's talking to someone."

"About being sad?"

Kai nodded. "Yes."

Milo sniffled. "Will it make him happy?"

No one answered immediately.

Then Kai knelt beside him. "It might help."

Milo thought about that for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

Willow kissed his forehead.

I looked toward the hallway. "Where is he?"

My voice barely worked.

Kai stood. "He's with a doctor."

"How long?"

"Almost two hours."

My heart dropped. "Two hours?"

Willow wiped her face. "They wanted to talk to him alone first."

I nodded. "Okay."

"He asked for you."

My eyes moved to her. "I know."

"No." She shook her head. "I mean before they took him back."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"He kept asking when you were coming."

I stared at her. "He did?"

Willow nodded. "He asked me three times."

Something inside me cracked.

I looked toward the hallway again.

The boy who didn't remember me had asked for me. The boy who had known me for less than two weeks had wanted me when he was scared.

I didn't know what to do with that. I didn't know whether it made me happy or whether it made everything hurt worse.

Because Riley didn't remember loving me. He didn't remember needing me. He didn't remember all the times I had been the first person he called when something happened.

But somehow, even without those memories, he had asked for me.

I wondered if some part of him remembered.

Not a memory. Not a face. Not a specific moment.

Maybe something deeper.

Maybe there were pieces of people that lived somewhere the brain couldn't erase. Maybe his mind had forgotten my name and our memories and every year we had spent together, but something inside him still knew I was safe.

Or maybe that was only what I wanted to believe.

Maybe Riley had asked for me because I had been the person sitting beside him when he found the journal. Maybe he had asked for me because I knew the truth. Maybe there was nothing romantic or beautiful or poetic about it.

But even if that was true, it still meant something.

He had asked for me.

I sat down beside Milo because my legs suddenly couldn't hold me anymore. Willow sat beside me. Lydia took the chair on my other side. Kai sat beside Milo.

Then we waited.

The same people who had waited days ago for Riley to wake up. The same people who had prayed he would survive. The same people who had thought the worst thing that could happen was losing him.

Now we knew the truth.

We had almost lost him before the accident ever happened.

I looked down at my hands.

I thought about Riley's journal. I thought about the boy drowning in the drawing. I thought about the words beneath it.

Nobody seeing.

My eyes filled with tears again.

I wanted to go back.

That was the thought that hurt most.

I wanted to go back to every moment Riley had been sad and I hadn't noticed. I wanted to go back to every time he said he was tired and ask him what kind of tired he meant. I wanted to go back to every time he disappeared into his room and sit outside the door until he let me in.

I wanted to go back to the night I told him I loved him.

God, I wanted to go back to that night.

I wanted to take the words back. Not because they weren't true. They were. They had been true for years. But if I had known what would happen after I said them, I would have swallowed them forever.

I would have loved him silently for the rest of my life if it meant Riley never got into that car.

I would have watched him fall in love with someone else. I would have stood beside him at his wedding. I would have smiled while my heart broke. I would have done anything.

Anything.

If it meant he stayed.

My chest tightened.

But that wasn't fair either. Somewhere deep down, I knew that. Riley had been hurting before I told him I loved him. The journal proved that. The drawings and poetry had been there before my confession.

Whatever had been drowning him had started long before that night.

But guilt didn't care about timelines.

Guilt only cared that four days after I told my best friend I loved him, I got a phone call saying he had been in a car accident.

Guilt only cared that his goodbye note to me apologized because he couldn't love me the way I loved him.

I pressed my hands together tightly.

Lydia's shoulder rested against mine. Willow held Milo. Kai stared at the floor. And we waited.

We waited for Riley again.

Except this time, I wasn't waiting for him to open his eyes. I was waiting for him to choose to keep them open.

I closed mine.

We see you now, Riley.

Maybe too late. Maybe after everything had already fallen apart. Maybe after you had to lose every memory you ever had before we finally learned the truth.

But we see you.

And somewhere behind those hospital doors, Riley was finally talking. Finally telling someone. Finally getting help.

I only hoped that when he came back through those doors, he would understand something the rest of us had learned too late.

He had never been as alone as he thought he was.

And this time, none of us were going to let him drown by himself.