Once Zoey stepped over the toadstools, Eric forgot that he had been scared only moments ago. He turned angry eyes on her.
“You promised me you wouldn’t go back,” he scolded.
“I know,” she said as guilt washed over her like a cold shower. “But I had to. This was important—”
“Nothing is more important than your life!”
But Violet’s life was much more important than Zoey’s. She didn’t expect Eric to understand, as he was an only child. What would he know about sibling love or being responsible for someone?
“I had to lie for you, again,” he said.
He was talking about lying to her parents about her whereabouts. They must have called him to ask if she was there, he had said yes, and had then gone looking for her. He must have known she was in the forest because that was where she had been last time she was missing.
“I didn’t ask you to lie, nor did I ask you to search for me.”
“You could have been in danger!”
“I was not.” Was this true? Caynin had protected her, but she still did not trust him. He had told her she shouldn’t come back. Was that a threat or a warning?
“My mother died in there,” Eric reminded her.
“That was sixteen years ago! It’s time to move on,” Zoey snapped, and then bit her lip as she had not meant for it to come out that harsh. Eric’s mouth twisted – she had hurt his feelings. “Eric, I’m not suicidal, and I’m not going to leave you.”
The anger drained from Eric’s face, and he looked tired and much older than eighteen. “Okay,” he mumbled by way of ending the fight.
The world’s silence seemed to swallow them whole and spit them out again. Together, they headed down the quiet street, and when Zoey saw a road sign she realized that they were far away from Bree’s house and closer to their own. Eric lived two streets away from Zoey.
“Are you sleeping over tonight?” Eric asked.
Usually, Zoey’s heart would race, and she’d jump at an invitation like this. But after their screaming match, she didn’t feel like hanging out with Eric. “I want to be with Violet.”
Eric accompanied her to her house in silence, which gave her plenty of time to observe him. His face was a bit too hollow, his hair was dull – from not eating all the necessary nutrients. He really was not that pretty. He couldn’t be compared to Caynin. But as Zoey thought this, she felt oddly guilty and pushed the picture of the Everwhite prince aside.
Once they reached Zoey’s house, Eric did not hug her, and strangely she didn’t feel disappointed by their lack of physical contact.
“Goodnight,” Eric mumbled as he departed.
Zoey didn’t bother replying or staring after him as he left. She sneaked in by the front door and went to her room, where Violet was sleeping. She rushed to her sister’s side and took her hand.
“Violet, wake up,” she said. “Violet, wake up.”
Her sister opened her eyes and groaned. “It’s dark outside…”
“Sit up, now.” Zoey put a pillow behind Violet, to support her back, before helping her sit up as she rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“What’s going on?”
Zoey pulled the bottle from her backpack and dropped the backpack to the floor. “Drink this.”
“What is it?” Violet frowned as Zoey pushed the bottle to her lips.
“Just drink.”
Violet took a few sips. “It’s sweet.”
“Drink all of it,” Zoey told her. She was not sure how much Violet needed, as only a few drops had been enough to cure Zoey’s broken ankle. Leukemia was, of course, much more serious than broken bones, and Zoey was not going to take any chances.
Violet emptied the bottle before lying back down. “Did you seriously wake me up so I could have a drink?”
“You have to stay hydrated.” Zoey crawled into bed next to her sister.
Moments afterward, Violet was asleep again. Zoey swore she would not drift into dreamland before she knew if the flower had worked. But she had a long, stressful day, and the adrenalin was replaced by exhaustion. Her eyes began to close….
***
Zoey woke, realized her sister was not in bed, and jumped up, thinking the worst. She rushed downstairs, bumped her small toe against the skirting boards and cursed like a sailor.
“Mom! Dad!” she cried out, desperate for help.
She rushed into the kitchen which was redolent with the smell of waffles. She froze in her tracks and needed a moment to process what she was seeing. Marcia and Rudolf were sitting by the kitchen table. Rudolf cradled a cup of coffee, and the newspaper, which he usually read, lay folded on the table in front of him. Marcia held her knife and fork – she had cut into a delicious waffle and stuffed her mouth.
Syrup and strawberries had been placed on the table along with the plates.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” Violet was standing in front of the stove, wearing an apron over her pajamas. She was heating up frozen waffles, but that did not make any sense. Violet was too sick to stand. She spent her days lying, dying, in bed.
“Violet?” Zoey blinked as if her eyes were deceiving her. “Is this real?”
Violet shrugged. “I don’t know what is going on, but I am feeling much better today.”
Zoey slowly approached her sister and stopped when they were inches apart. Then she felt her lips twisting upward, and she pulled her sister into a long hug. Violet laughed and hugged her back, before abruptly pulling away.
“You made me burn your waffle!”
“I don’t care about the waffle,” Zoey said, blinking away potential tears. She would not cry.
Violet removed the pan, containing a black waffle, from the stove and tipped it so that the waffle slid into a clean plate. She reached for the box to take a new one, but Zoey took the plate and placed it on the table.
“We are going to the doctor after breakfast,” Rudolf said.
They ate their breakfast, and everyone kept their eyes on Violet, as if she was an illusion that would fade any second. Zoey ate her burnt waffle in two bites, without tasting anything, and then ran upstairs to get dressed. Violet was on her heels, laughing as Zoey bumped her toe for a second time that morning.
Afterward, the Wright family got into their car and drove to the hospital. For once, the atmosphere wasn’t dire, they were talking and playing lively music. As if the day couldn’t get any better, Rudolf found a parking space by the hospital’s front door, in the usually full parking lot.
They got out of the car together and entered the hospital, which now didn’t seem so sad anymore. Once inside, Violet was taken into a separate room so that the doctors could examine her.
When Violet returned, Doctor William Johnson was by her side, pale faced and white eyed. Violet was smiling and playing with her skirt when her mother took her hand in the same caring, worried way she had when Doctor William had told her that Violet had leukemia.
“How is she?” Rudolf asked.
“She”—the doctor paused—“she does not have leukemia. There are no signs that she ever had it.”
Zoey couldn’t believe what she had just heard, and her face broke into the widest smile she had ever worn. The Fluver-luzile elixir had worked! She had managed to save her sister’s life by venturing into the Wandering Woods. Just like the flower had healed her broken leg, it had cured leukemia.
“She is perfectly healthy,” Doctor Williams continued.
Zoey couldn’t help but think of all the good things that could come from the Fluver-luzile flower. This flower could cure cancer – it could save so many lives. But then again, it only grew in the Fata lands. Caynin had accused her of stealing, and it would be unwise to go back for more flowers.
“It is a miracle,” Doctor Williams said.
Zoey understood why the doctor thought it’s a miracle. He was a well-educated man who believed in science and medicine, and not magic. But it was not a miracle that had saved Violet. It was Zoey, the flower, and also Caynin, who had helped her return home from the woods, twice. She might have ended up dead without his protection.
Zoey had never even thanked Caynin; she had been too busy insulting him and trying to be tough. In this moment, Zoey was overwhelmed with happiness, and despite her fear, she would go back into the woods to thank him.