Losing Faith Read Online Free

it’s stuck in sludge. I’m almost positive people don’t have cute, healthy babies on this floor.
    At the nurse’s station, I spot my sister’s blond hair, and the frumpy gray sweatshirt I saw her in earlier tonight. She leans over the counter toward the receptionist. I let out my breath and march over. At least she’ll be able to tell me what’s going on.
    As I’m about to grab her by the shoulder, the red stitching on the seam of her top makes me stop. It’s not the same shirt.
    She turns to face me, the striking blonde who’s not my sister, and moves aside so I can speak to the nurses.
    “It’s awful,” one heavyset nurse is saying to another, completely ignoring me. “They must be having a horrible time.”
    “Excuse me?”
    They both stop and turn to me.
    “Jenkins?” I say as a question, since I’m not really sure who I’mlooking for. My mouth tastes like metal when I speak.
    The gossiping nurse frowns. She glances at the other nurse, and then points down the hall. “Uh, yes. The last door on the left.”
    By the time I’m halfway down the wide hallway, the word “Chapel” posted above the last set of doors comes into view. Of course. Where else would Dad be? Must be on his knees in there with the hospital chaplain. My parents’ Big Plan is called predestination, and this is what they do in times of crises. Or anytime, really. They meet with other churchies.
    My heart still beats hard against my ribs, especially when I notice the police officer pacing in front of the chapel door. I shimmy past him and nudge the door open. My parents are both inside, alone on either side of the small room, and I let out a small breath at the sight of them. The wood walls and ceiling seem jarring after the sterile hospital hallway. Mom perches on a chair to my left, bent forward, and in shadow. The solitary light from the far side of the room shines down on Dad, hunched over the pulpit.
    “I got here as fast as I could. What’s—”
    Dad looks up with tears streaming down his face. I glance from him to Mom, then to the rest of the sparse room. The four empty benches. The plants in pots along the side of the room that look too similar and too perfect to be real. Dad holdsa gray sweatshirt, one without red stitching, and crumples it in his tight grip.
    “Where’s Faith?” I ask.
    There’s a pause and time stops. Suddenly, Mom and Dad come at me so fast and so panicked that I feel like a baby choking on a penny. Having no idea what’s going on or how to react, I ball my fists and pull them to my face. My parents throw their smothering arms around me and I feel explosive heaves from their chests, as though the only air in the room is coming from them.
    At least they’re breathing. My lungs are stuck together with Krazy Glue. “Where’s Faith?” I ask again, but it comes out in little more than a squeak.
    Mom lets out a howl of a cry.
    My parents squeeze me tighter and pet my head as though I’m a dog or a farm animal, and suddenly, I understand.
    Faith isn’t here. Isn’t coming here.
    I gasp, and my Krazy-Glued lungs tear apart.
    I’m no longer the black sheep of the family.
    I’m the only one.

chapter THREE
    s everal hours later, the police follow us up our driveway without a word. I eye Faith’s Toyota and try to work out in my head, for the hundredth time, how she could be gone. Just the sight of her car makes my brain default to thinking she must be inside the house waiting for us. I blink hard to try to reset my internal algorithms.
    Focus, Brie, focus. You need to get through the rest of this night without falling apart. I don’t know why I think this. To be strong for my parents? No, that wouldn’t make sense. They’re much stronger than I am.
    I take a deep breath and try to distance myself enough toset a plan for at least getting through the police statements. Setting some logical parameters has always helped me to keep a cool head and not fall apart in emotional situations. Like when