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Chapter Fifty-Seven
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2021-10-21 22:16:43SYDNEY AND I were taken by ambulance to Cape Fear Medical Center where we were x-rayed, probed, stitched up, smeared with ointment, and admitted for observation. They told me I had a broken ankle and sealed my left foot in a cast. The D.A. stopped by to tell me that all charges against me were being dropped. I also learned from him that Sam had been transported by helicopter to Duke University Medical Center and that David had been found alive, bound and gagged in another room of the barn, and had been rescued before the fire, but that Ashleigh didn’t make it. They found her body in the other tank that had been sunk in the canal. He also said that although Scott had been severely wounded in the shootout, he was expected to live to stand trial.
After two days in the hospital, Sydney and I were released, but refused to go anywhere without each other. After getting a change of clothes and a bite to eat, we returned to the hospital around 4 p.m. that afternoon to spend some
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My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Eight
MARTHA WAS BACK TO BEING her old self with her memory fully restored a few weeks later. They replaced the bandage on her head with a smaller one and we got our first look at her face through a plastic shield she would wear for another six weeks.After they removed the tubes from her head, the primary area of concern shifted to her one remaining kidney which was growing worse by the day.Winston continued to stop by for progress reports and was allowed to see her after the third week. He cried like a child and I wondered if seeing her like that brought back painful memories of his own recovery.I was proud of Mother for not only shopping for him and spending time with him all those years, but for bringing him into the family and giving him the opportunity to love and be loved. People are just not people at all until they have someone to love and be loved by. Without love, people are more like animals taking care of their basic needs and living in seclusion. Belie
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I THOUGHT MARTHA AND I HAD FIGURED every possibility, but we never considered this one. Winston is Uncle Charlie? My heart skipped a beat. Dad? Goose bumps rose on my arms. I’ve often heard that the first time a man sees his newborn child, an emotion of unconditional love sweeps through him like a flame on spilled gasoline. I was meeting my father for the first time and I felt something powerful sweep through me.Sydney stammered like a child who’d just been tricked by a slight-of-hand magician at the county fair. “Wh—What did you do?”Mother dabbed a tissue at her eyes, but looked as if she’d been relieved of a load she had carried her whole life. “All the feelings I thought I’d stowed away forever came rushing back. I went to pieces, burst into tears, and collapsed in the doorway. When he lifted me up, I grabbed hold of him, kissed him, and wouldn’t let go.” That loose shutter agai
Last Updated : 2021-10-21My Sister's Keeper Epilogue
OVER THE NEXT FEW MONTHS, we would come to know ourselves, Charlie, and Mother in ways we never imagined. I looked behind the disfigurement of my father and discovered myself within him. His love of the arts, his passion for the theatre, and his gentle manner mirrored mine, and made me as proud of him as he was of me. The tension in my life disappeared. Whatever I’d been running from no longer chased me. I’d been set free.Charlie and Mom married the following spring and she became Mrs. Winston Gaylord. She sold her house and moved to the farm. I’ve never seen her happier.Dane Bonner was eventually found guilty of the murders of Scott McGillikin and Ashleigh Matthews as well as two of the missing Wilmington girls. He was sentenced to death.Dane’s associate, Greg, left the gas station after the explosion and thumbed rides the rest of the way to Bonner's cabin in Boone. He still had the $2,000 in his pocket and the keys to the cabin. He a
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THOMAS WOLFE WAS RIGHT. You can’t go home again. And I wouldn’t have had it not been for my sister’s accident. I flew back to Wilmington, North Carolina, and sat vigil over her for weeks listening to the beeps and clicks of the machinery that kept her alive, pleading with her not to die. Martha was the one person in this world who had always been there for me, believed in me, looked up to me, and never failed me. And I, Richard Charles Baimbridge, could not survive without her.She kept me sane.Even in the darkness of her hospital room, I could see beyond the bruises on her face to the whimsical little girl with auburn hair and bright eyes that had grown up alongside me. The curious perfectionist turned investigative reporter who would not let go of a thing until she’d figured it out. Like the time a girlfriend of hers showed up with a Rubik’s Cube. Martha was only eight at the time, but she’d spun and twisted that
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IN THE SOLITUDE OF MARTHA’S HOSPITAL ROOM, my mind drifted back to that summer day when a sixteen-year-old neighborhood bully named Jimmy Lassiter pulled a switchblade and tried to rob us. I was fourteen at the time and Martha was ten. Without hesitation, she snatched up a broken chunk of brick and hurled it, permanently blinding him in his right eye, and scarring me internally for the rest of my life. Coward!Why couldn’t I be more like my sister?As I watched over her and prayed for her life, I promised God that night that if he’d let Martha live, no matter how badly she was injured, I’d take care of her for the rest of her life if needed. I hadn’t kept many promises I’d made to God, but that was one promise I did intend to keep.When Martha finally did emerge from her coma and I realized how much rehabilitation she was going to need, I went back to New York City, packed up my Tribeca photography s
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THE LAST THING I EXPECTED was to be accosted by a couple of women. One was blond with dark eyebrows, the other had dark hair piled high in a bee-hive with a tattoo on her neck—some kind of Chinese symbol. They wore jeans, t-shirts with the sleeves and midriff area ripped off, and metal studs in both their navels and lips—like many of the women you’d run into at Walmart. I saw Martha’s hand moving slowly toward her cell phone.I cleared my throat. “We’re working undercover here. You’d better run along if you don’t want to get in trouble.”The blond smacked a wad of gum and pointed a finger at Martha. “Just keep your hands where we can see them, Sweetie. And you—” She looked at me. "What did Sam Jones tell you, Baimbridge?"Sam Jones? “He—told us to stay away.”“Right. And he don’t like it when you don’t listen.”“We…just&mda
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"MISTER BAIMBRIDGE?”The woman at the back door held a black umbrella against her shoulder and struggled to keep her balance as she braced herself against a mighty gust of wind. She looked to be in her early twenties.“Yes?”“My name is Ashleigh Matthews. I live in Dr. Hardesty’s pool house next door. May I come inside for a minute?”There was a pained look on her face that reminded me of the loneliness I often felt. The kind of loneliness that gnaws a hole in your chest, steals your youth, and makes you vulnerable.“Sure. Of course. Please come in.” I parted the door just enough to allow her to get past me without letting in the whole storm.“Thanks,” she exhaled dashing past me. As I closed the door, I caught sight of Mrs. Winslow gazing at me from a window. I gave her a two-finger salute and flipped on the kitchen lights.“I’m sorry to impose on you on
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"STOP!” I shouted.Ashleigh looked up, her hands frozen on the last button.“I’m sorry, Ashleigh. Call me drunk. Call me stupid. Call me whatever you want. I’m as red-blooded as any male and you’re the best-looking woman I’ve had in this house ever! But you just don’t need to be doing that. Please, just call the studio in the morning and make an appointment.”Her gaze remained locked on me even as another heavy branch fell on the deck. Her shirt lay open exposing her bra. It was tempting. God, was it tempting!I turned away. “Please, Ashleigh.” The telephone rang and broke the impasse. I reached for it immediately. “Hello?”It was Mom. “Richie, can you run over and help your dad move Martha’s bed?”I closed my eyes and drew a slow breath. “Move it where, Mom?”“Is something wrong?”“No, nothi
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OVER THE NEXT FEW MONTHS, we would come to know ourselves, Charlie, and Mother in ways we never imagined. I looked behind the disfigurement of my father and discovered myself within him. His love of the arts, his passion for the theatre, and his gentle manner mirrored mine, and made me as proud of him as he was of me. The tension in my life disappeared. Whatever I’d been running from no longer chased me. I’d been set free.Charlie and Mom married the following spring and she became Mrs. Winston Gaylord. She sold her house and moved to the farm. I’ve never seen her happier.Dane Bonner was eventually found guilty of the murders of Scott McGillikin and Ashleigh Matthews as well as two of the missing Wilmington girls. He was sentenced to death.Dane’s associate, Greg, left the gas station after the explosion and thumbed rides the rest of the way to Bonner's cabin in Boone. He still had the $2,000 in his pocket and the keys to the cabin. He a
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Nine
I THOUGHT MARTHA AND I HAD FIGURED every possibility, but we never considered this one. Winston is Uncle Charlie? My heart skipped a beat. Dad? Goose bumps rose on my arms. I’ve often heard that the first time a man sees his newborn child, an emotion of unconditional love sweeps through him like a flame on spilled gasoline. I was meeting my father for the first time and I felt something powerful sweep through me.Sydney stammered like a child who’d just been tricked by a slight-of-hand magician at the county fair. “Wh—What did you do?”Mother dabbed a tissue at her eyes, but looked as if she’d been relieved of a load she had carried her whole life. “All the feelings I thought I’d stowed away forever came rushing back. I went to pieces, burst into tears, and collapsed in the doorway. When he lifted me up, I grabbed hold of him, kissed him, and wouldn’t let go.” That loose shutter agai
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Eight
MARTHA WAS BACK TO BEING her old self with her memory fully restored a few weeks later. They replaced the bandage on her head with a smaller one and we got our first look at her face through a plastic shield she would wear for another six weeks.After they removed the tubes from her head, the primary area of concern shifted to her one remaining kidney which was growing worse by the day.Winston continued to stop by for progress reports and was allowed to see her after the third week. He cried like a child and I wondered if seeing her like that brought back painful memories of his own recovery.I was proud of Mother for not only shopping for him and spending time with him all those years, but for bringing him into the family and giving him the opportunity to love and be loved. People are just not people at all until they have someone to love and be loved by. Without love, people are more like animals taking care of their basic needs and living in seclusion. Belie
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Seven
SYDNEY AND I were taken by ambulance to Cape Fear Medical Center where we were x-rayed, probed, stitched up, smeared with ointment, and admitted for observation. They told me I had a broken ankle and sealed my left foot in a cast. The D.A. stopped by to tell me that all charges against me were being dropped. I also learned from him that Sam had been transported by helicopter to Duke University Medical Center and that David had been found alive, bound and gagged in another room of the barn, and had been rescued before the fire, but that Ashleigh didn’t make it. They found her body in the other tank that had been sunk in the canal. He also said that although Scott had been severely wounded in the shootout, he was expected to live to stand trial.After two days in the hospital, Sydney and I were released, but refused to go anywhere without each other. After getting a change of clothes and a bite to eat, we returned to the hospital around 4 p.m. that afternoon to spend some
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Six
THE FIRE NOW CONSUMED the barn and licked high into the air. The cold water slowly filling the barrel helped to cool our brains, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it would eventually drown us. Ten minutes tops. Our only hope was a gun that wouldn’t fire even if I could get to it. And what would I shoot to get us out? More holes and we’d drown quicker.My right arm was pinned, but I could move my left…slightly. Sydney’s legs were wedged back against her chest and I was squashed against them upside down. Our heads rested near one another, mine bent under with my abdomen pressed against the back of her calves. I worked my hand down my left side and tried to find a way to get around her legs to her waist. The water was now midway up my thighs. Sydney had gone quiet—passed out from pain, heat, loss of blood, or a lack of oxygen. But she was still alive. I could feel her expand…occasionally…to take a breath of the r
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Five
THE TEMPERATURE INSIDE THE DRUM instantly began to rise and my claustrophobia drove me into a panic. Without air, we would suffocate in minutes. There was light coming through the opaque sides and I could see shadows moving around it as the drum tipped and fell on its side slamming us against the hard shell. My heart pounded so loudly I could hear it. A drum within a drum. Fear gripped me, its sharp spears ripping my senses. I pressed my knees against the lid and pushed. My muscles cramped, but nothing gave way.Scott’s shadow fell over the barrel and I could hear his clothes rubbing against it as we began to roll—the heavy container crunching the ground like shoes on soft rocks. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Baimbridge?” he grunted. “You and Sydney together forever? Is that what you wanted, Baimbridge?”The tank turned another revolution. My right arm was locked behind my back, and I could barely move my left. The temper
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Four
IN MY MIND, I SAW MYSELF LEAP from the shadows and lock my hands around his neck. I saw the shock in his blood-streaked eyes as I choked the life out of him with my bare hands. I felt panic ripple through his body as he realized that he was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it. In one glorious flicker of thought, I watched him die in my hands. But death would be too good for Scott—or Dane Bonner—or whoever the hell he was. I wanted him to suffer as my sister had, to know her pain, to curse my name every time his cell door closed for the rest of his tortured life.As his shadow followed him into the barn, I grasped a chunk of firewood, flattened myself against the rear of the building, and trod on quaking legs to the edge of the doorway. Drunk on hate, I didn’t care about the law. I didn’t care about the other lives he’d torn apart. He had destroyed my sister and I wanted to punish him for it. I wanted to be the one t
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Three
MARTHA HELD ME TOGETHER all through high school when my relationship with Dad had totally come apart. What a blessing that was. No person should have to live without a sibling. If I ever have children, there’ll be at least two. But even with Martha there supporting me emotionally, I’d not been complete.Until Sydney.With Sydney, I felt I’d come full circle. As if she’d taken hold of my spine and given me some sort of adjustment. A spiritual realignment. My breathing slowed. My muscles relaxed. I felt a presence within me that had long been missing—a thousand voices singing.Looking at her leaning against the carved headboard of her bed holding a sheet to her breasts, I felt I was looking more into her than at her. I wanted her heart more than I wanted air to breathe.“Come home with me,” I said. “Have dinner with me. Have breakfast with me. Bring a plant if you like. I don’t
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Two
TIFFANY FOUND THE NOTE and the key, and immediately ripped the tags off a new string bikini her mother would never have allowed her to wear. Strutting about under the watchful eyes of every man on the dock, she cranked the engine, brought in the lines, shoved the magnificent sailboat off, and motored Steal Away out to the channel where she found a strong southerly breeze—perfect for a reach down the river.Bringing the vessel about, she headed directly into the wind, set the brake on the wheel, and raised the mizzen to steady the boat. Electing to keep the mainsail furled, she climbed barefooted onto the roof of the cabin, sidled toward the bow, and—bending her knees as the vessel rose to meet each wave—reached to the low side and tugged the line to release the jib. As the massive sail unrolled like a window shade, its bitter end flapped loosely in the wind, snapping and popping against the mainmast, sending her heart to racing as she jumped back to
