Free Mourning Song by Lurlene McDaniel

the floor with a blanket and fell asleep. Neither Dani nor Austin said a word for several miles. Dani folded her hands in her lap to conceal their trembling. She felt drained and shaky. Staring straight ahead, she mumbled, “When I heard your engine start, I didn’t know what to do.”
    “It was the only thing I could think to do.” Austin sounded subdued. “I didn’t want to make him suspicious. I kept praying that you’d stay inside the bathroom. That you’d trust me enough to wait for me.”
    Dani looked at him. “At first, I thought you’d left us.”
    He glanced at her sharply, a look of hurt on his face. “Don’t you know, Dani? I’m in this all the way with you. I won’t leave you. Not even when it’s all over.”
    She kept silent. When it was over, she might need him more than ever.

F
ourteen

    D ANI SAT QUIETLY as miles and miles of highway slid past the window of the van. Dawn began to break in cool gray strips, and stars blinked out, as if some hand were turning them off, one by one. Her eyes felt gritty, and there was a stale, unpleasant taste in her mouth, left over from doughnuts and colas at three A.M .
    Austin had taken a chance on a more direct route. He’d picked up the Florida Turnpike, then a state road going east. Every muscle in Dani’s body ached, and all she wanted to do was stretch out in a soft, clean bed and sleep. She thought of home and her bedroom. She’dbeen gone two nights, but it seemed so much longer.
    “Once we get through town, we’ll pick up the beachfront highway and go to the hotel,” Austin said, breaking the monotonous droning sound of the engine and tires that filled the van.
    “We can’t check in till noon,” Dani replied with a tired sigh.
    “Then we’ll just wait on the beach. I’m guessing that people will start showing up early, so we won’t be noticed among the crowds.” He glanced back at Cassie. “She sleeps a lot.”
    “It’s part of her symptoms. But it’s better that she does. It’s making the trip shorter for her.”
    The day continued to brighten, and Cassie stirred. She sat up and gazed out the window. “Are we at the beach yet?”
    “Almost,” Austin answered cheerfully. “Do you want to stop for a minute?”
    “No. Please, let’s go to the water.” There was a sense of urgency in her voice.
    Austin continued to drive until he found a deserted parking lot designated for public beach access. He rolled to a stop. The moment the doors opened, Dani caught the sharp, tangy scent of the sea air and heard the muffled rhythmic beat of water hitting the shore. A morning breeze blew soft and balmy, stirring her hair and reviving her spirits.
    They walked along a short wooden boardwalk, over a crest of sand, and saw the sea stretching calmly before them. “May I present the Atlantic Ocean,” Austin said with a flourish.
    Dani watched Cassie. She wondered if her sister felt the way she did—overwhelmed, almost giddy. No movie, no TV image, no photograph had been equal to what lay in front of them. The shoreline stretched endlessly in either direction, and in the distance, the sky appeared to meet the water at the horizon. The sight left her speechless.
    Cassie’s eyes were bright and she was smiling. She slipped off her shoes and touched her toes to the sand. “I want to feel the water.” She started to walk across the thick, heavy sand with her lurching gait.
    Dani followed, then Austin. At the edge of the water, Cassie stopped, took a deep, long breath, flung her arms wide open, and raised her face to the brightening sky. “I made it! My wish has been granted.” She reached over to hug Dani and then Austin. “This is a view I could never have from my hospital bed!” And she laughed.
    They walked along the shore and saw the sunrise. Rays glistened on the water like jewels. Dani’s eyes darted everywhere. As she stood still, the water sucked the sand away from her feet, leaving indentations that slowly vanished as every passing