The doctor cleared me to leave today. My head still has a dull ache, but I'm in much less pain than before. This morning, my aunt and I are going to pack a duffel bag and drive up to Neo.

Although my aunt has my dad's car, Gray offered to drive us to Neo today. He returned to school yesterday, which means we'll have to wait until the afternoon. My aunt doesn't mind, and neither do I. It's comforting to know that I'll be able to say goodbye to Gray one last time. He'll be able to visit me, of course, but we won't be free to spend every second together like we did in the summer. And that's alright. A few weeks ago, I was absolutely terrified of ever being alone. Left with my thoughts. Overthinking everything. Letting myself fall into the suffocating darkness that consumes every ounce of color. Yet this is a journey I need to take on my own. It may be scary, but it's necessary. I must focus on myself before I can focus on anything else. And, if Gray was there alongside me, I'd only focus on him. For months I tried to replace my damaging thoughts with Gray. A part of me still wants to try that again, even though I know it would only end in disaster.

Except, I'm tired of disaster. I'm ready for recovery. It may not be easy, but life never is.

***

On the drive home, my aunt turns down the radio. I play with the hospital wristband, still affixed to my arm, waiting for her to speak.

"Paris, there's something I need to say."

"Anything, Nessie."

I started calling my aunt "Nessie" when I was a toddler. She hated it at first, but eventually accepted the nickname with adoration. The nickname tumbles off my tongue instinctively, thawing out the icy tentativeness in her voice.

She laughs at my little nickname as she slows to a red light, glancing over at me with her ocean blue eyes. Her calm gaze comforts me and I break a soft smile.

"I need to apologize for not coming sooner. You need to understand that I was not well when your mom died. Even though she wasn't biologically related to me, it truly felt like we were sisters. Don't get me wrong, your dad and I were extremely close as kids, but I always wanted a big sister, and your mom was exactly that. We could talk for hours and reminiscence about our similar globetrotting experiences. One day, we decided that, after you graduated high school, your mom and I would take you to Paris and show you the gorgeous city you were named after. She had so many stories about that city that she couldn't wait to tell you. If only I knew all of them, I'd tell you myself."

The light turns green and Nessie keeps driving, wiping a single tear from her cheek.

"Before you woke up, I told Gray some of what happened after your mom died. But I want you to hear the whole story, from me."

I simply nod, prepared for whatever Nessie has to say. There's almost nothing that can shock me nowadays.

"I suffered a mental breakdown after your mom's death. She was the closest thing I had to a big sister and a best friend. You may not remember, but we would talk over the phone for hours. Even if we hadn't spoken for a few weeks, we immediately fell into the same groove. She understood me on a wavelength nobody else could."

"After the funeral, I spent my days lying in bed. School hadn't started up yet, but when it did, I went on an extended, unpaid leave. My boss, the principal, told me my job was waiting for me when I was ready to return. If she hadn't been so gracious, I probably would've lost my teaching position. At the time, I could care less. I never anticipated a future where I'd wake up and roll out of bed. Your mom was such a radiant light in this world. When she died, it was like everything went dark."

"Somehow, I realized I couldn't remain in the darkness forever. So, I got in my car and I drove across the country with nothing but a handful of clothes and a toothbrush. I went everywhere your mom visited during her college years, and everywhere she had planned to go. The journey helped heal my heart and remind me that there are other sources of light in this world. Even though your mom is gone, her presence lingers in the beauty of nature and the generosity of people's hearts. There were motel owners that let me spend the night for free, waitresses that served me complimentary pancakes, and even a mechanic who fixed my radiator on the house."

A few tears drip down from Nessie's eyes. She's always tried to keep a strong countenance, ever since I was little. It's jarring to see her cry, but I welcome this rush of emotion, relieved that she's letting herself grieve and feels comfortable enough to do so with me beside her.

"Eventually, I made it back to Portland, started working again, and got back on my feet. I never considered that there would be others - you, my brother - who felt as awful as I did. My brother was always the stable one between us. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders with a smile. It was wrong of me to assume Liza's death wouldn't wreck him, or you."

Nessie pulls into our driveway and shifts the car into park. As the engine stalls, the two of us sit there, silent, until Nessie gains her composure.

"What I'm trying to say is, Paris, can you forgive me?"

I nod, reaching across to the driver's seat and enveloping Nessie in a warm embrace. Tears stream down both our eyes, and I feel Nessie's soft kiss on my head of curls, a reminder that she's here to protect me now.

Nessie's story gives me hope. She went through hell, just like I did, but she pulled herself out of the darkness. And I can too.

After we pull away, Nessie gazes at me with a worn, tired smile. The lines of exhaustion linger on her face like battle scars that bear witness to all the pain she's been through. I wonder if that's how I look at first glance, or if that's how I'll look ten years from now.

Whatever. Who cares if I have scars? It just means I survived the battle.