“Cut it out, Tayles. I don’t ask about your personal life, do I?” Zac snapped as they walked into the elevator.
Taylor pushed the button for the third floor. “No, you don’t, but you do read my journal,” he retorted.
Zac shrugged. “So what? So does Ike.”
Isaac’s eyes widened and he smacked Zac in the chest. “Zachary,” he snapped.
Taylor turned to his older brother. “Clarke Isaac Hanson -” he began.
“Ah, Tay,” Isaac said, pointing to the opening elevator door. “Some other time, okay. We’re here.”
Taylor clenched his jaw. “It’s a long flight home, Chewy,” he muttered.
The three of them walked toward the now familiar room three seventeen. Zac was about to twist the doorknob when a guy yelled, “Hey!”
Zac paused, looking at him. “Yes?”
“What’dya think you’re doing?” asked the guy. He was a lanky-looking teenager with sandy brown hair and hazel-green eyes.
“We’re gonna visit Corey Jennings,” Zac said obviously.
The guy shook his head slowly. “You can’t go in there,” he said.
Zac was confused. “But she’s expecting us. She’ll be upset if we don’t come say goodbye before we leave -”
“She’s dead.” As the guy said it, his set face broke and tears began falling down his face.
A small woman with dark hair and blue eyes came up behind the guy and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Barry,” she began.
“Aw, man,” Isaac whispered. “This is awful.”
“She seemed so well yesterday,” Taylor whispered.
Zac barely heard them. He was numb. She was dead. Corey was dead. His “wife”. She’d never smile again, never hold Itzy again, never sing again. She’d never do anything again.
Just then, Zac did something he’d sworn many times never to do - especially not in public.
He started to cry.
