The sky was a dull gray when Ellen pulled up to the Peterson's house, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly. She hadn't slept all night — not since she realized that they also blamed Diego for Sam's death. She stepped out of the car, her heart pounding as she walked up the porch. The door opened before she could knock. Mrs. Peterson stood there, her eyes puffy and red, her expression cold. .
"I was wondering when you'd show up," she said coldly.
"Yvonne, please," Ellen said softly. "I'm not here to fight."
"Well, then you came to the wrong house." Mr Peterson appeared behind his wife, his voice hard, "Your boy walked away from that wreck. Our son didn't. And you expect us to just... what? Move on?"
Ellen's voice cracked. "Diego loved Sam like a brother and you know it. He's barely holding it together"
"He shouldn't be holding it together," Mr. Peterson snapped. "He was the one behind the wheel!"
"That's not true," she replied, now struggling to keep her voice steady. "They were all in the car. They made a stupid decision together—teenagers do that. But he didn't kill your son."
Mrs. Peterson's grief burst out in a wail. "Then why is Sam the one who's six feet under? "
Ellen took a step back, shaking her head. "You think I don't ask myself the same thing? You think it doesn't kill me to see my son break down every hour because he wished he had died instead?"
As the words hung in the air, Diego came out of the car. He'd insisted on coming even though he looked like he hadn't slept in days. He was pale, thin, and trembling.
"Mom…" he said.
She turned to him just as his knees buckled. He collapsed onto the driveway.
"Diego! " she screamed, rushing to his side.
Mr. and Mrs. Peterson rushed down the steps in shock. Diego lay there, barely conscious, his breath shallow.
"Call 911!" Ellen yelled, cradling his head. "Please, call someone! "
Mrs. Peterson froze, watching the broken boy on the ground — not the boy who survived, not the one she wanted to blame — but just a child, crushed by guilt and grief. And in that moment, something changed.
*****
"Stay with me, baby," she whispered, brushing sweat-drenched curls off his forehead. "Just hang in there", she said as they wheeled him into the ER. The second they arrived, nurses and doctors swarmed around Diego. Dr. Richards asked her to wait outside. This made her feel extremely helpless. Mrs. Peterson arrived moments later. Her steps were hesitant, but her face had changed — the sharp anger had melted into something closer to sorrow, or maybe guilt. She sat down beside Ellen without saying a word. Neither of them spoke for a while. The silence between them was thick — the kind of silence that comes after too much has been said and too much has been lost.
"I saw his eyes," Mrs. Peterson finally said. "He looked... like he was already halfway gone."
Ellen nodded, eyes filled with tears. "He's not just mourning Sam. He's blaming himself every second. It's eating him alive."
The door to the ER opened and Dr. Johnson approached them. Both women stood at once.
"He's stable," the doctor said gently. "Exhaustion, dehydration, panic-induced fainting. His body basically shut down from stress. We've got him on fluids and he's resting now, but... mentally, he's still in a very dark place."
Ellen exhaled. She felt relieved but it didn't feel like a victory. Her son was alive, but barely holding on inside.
Mrs. Peterson swallowed hard. "Can I… can I see him?"
Ellen hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Maybe he needs to hear it from you. That it wasn't all his fault."
They walked down the hallway together — two mothers bound by a tragedy that had stolen one child and nearly shattered the other.
******
When they reached the room, Ellen gently pushed the door open. Diego was lying in the bed, his face pale and tired.
"Diego ", Ellen whispered, touching his arm. "You have a visitor."
He opened his eyes slowly. When he saw Mrs.Peterson, tears filled his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said weakly. "I didn't mean for it to happen."
Mrs. Peterson stood still for a moment.Then she slowly walked to the bed.
"I know you didn't mean it," she said. "I've been angry, but deep down… I know."
Diego's voicecracked. "I should've died too."
"No," she said firmly, sitting down beside him. "You're still here for a reason. Sam wouldn't want you to hate yourself."
Tears rolled down Diego's cheeks. "He was my best friend."
"I know," she said. She reached out and held his hand. "And I forgive you."
Ellen stood nearby, her eyes full of tears too. She didn't say anything. She just watched as the two of them sat there, holding hands.
It wasn't over. The pain would still be there and Diego never really forgave himself. At school, he could feel everyone blaming him with their stares. Diane had not spoken to him since he returned. She was clearly going through a lot and he wasn't going to blame her if she never wanted to speak to him. He was at fault after all. If he didn't insist on that ride, his friends would have still been alive.
******
Alan died some months later. That nearly broke Diego into pieces. He had come back from school like every other normal day but today, his mom didn't look happy at all. She didn't have her usual smile on her face.
"What's wrong mum?", he asked.
She hesitated for a while then took a deep breath.
"Alan died in the early hours of today."
He stepped back and his bagback fell from his hand. A tear dropped then more followed and finally, he was in tears. She pulled him closer and he lost himself in her arms. He kept crying and screaming as well as attempting to tear himself up but she held him in place. In her warm arms, away from the judgments of the world and the guilt that filled his heart.
"You'll be fine.", she whispered. "You'll be just fine."
She knew he wasn't going to heal from this loss anytime soon so she decided to make a life-changing decision. A decision that would save her son from loosing more of himself than he already did. One that would shield him from whatever anyone had to say. She decided to move away. This solid decision meant saying goodbye to all the memories. She had to say goodbye to her husband. He had died in war when Diego was still a toddler. His memories still echoed in every corner of the house. But, she had to save her son from drowning and this was the only way she could. This was too much for a 17year-old.