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Two weeks after I woke up—more than a month after my nearly fatal battle with Mrs. Hyatt, Mom and Dad brought me home.
Because I’m stubborn, I insisted on walking up the stairs—with their help—and by the time we got to my room I felt creaky, achy, and a little lightheaded. They settled me on the bed, each one kissing me goodnight on my forehead, touching my wrist, when I knew they were checking for a fever, or if my pulse was too fast.
“Get some sleep,” Dad said. He still looked exhausted, so I hoped he took his own advice. After a last kiss he left Mom and me alone. Uh oh.
“Margaret.” I tried not to cringe. Mom let out a sigh, and took my hand. “I won’t make any promises, but I can try calling you Alex. It’s just so—”
“Masculine?”
She smiled, but it was a shaky one. Tears swam in her eyes, and she pulled me into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart. We almost lost you, and I would have done anything, promised anything, to keep you with us.”
It was my turn for the tears. We held on, cried, talked, and ate the gourmet jelly beans she brought home with us. She’d snuck them into my hospital room on a regular basis, and I’ve been mainlining them ever since.
“So, Alex.” We smiled at each other, and she wiped at the last of the tears on my face. “Can you promise me something? Or at least try?”
“Okay,” I said, not sure I’d be able to, if this was headed where I thought it was headed.
“Bring one of us along the next time you face off with someone intent on killing you.”
I opened my mouth, so shocked my mind went blank. That was so not what I expected.
“Um, okay.”
Mom laughed, brushing hair off my face. “I know better than to keep you from what you’re involved in. You have friends now—good kids who obviously care about you. I can’t tell you how happy I am about that.”
I felt a blush spread over my face. To say Mom was embarrassed about my decided lack of a social life would be a massive understatement. She was so outgoing, talking to people all the time. It used to horrify me when she walked up to complete strangers to compliment them on an outfit, their haircut, or ask them where they bought that fabulous bag.
Now that I was older, and less stupid about the social graces, I understood that it was just Mom being Mom.
“Your dad and I are so proud of you, sweetheart, but I can’t go through this again. So please, please try not to fight off the world’s evil alone. All right?”
“I promise.” I leaned against her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me. I had the coolest parents, and I planned to stick to that promise. I didn’t want to go through anything like that again. At the time, I acted. In hindsight, what I’d done terrified me. “Mom—have you heard anything about Katie?”
“Her aunt is here, and plans to stay until everything is sorted out.”
That’s my mom—always the diplomat. Sorted out equals how long the Hyatts will be in prison. I had a feeling it was going to be a long time for Mr. Hyatt—and I did not look forward to testifying against him.
For Mrs. Hyatt—if the prosecutor found evidence that she did start that fire ten years ago, she was about to become the diva of the women’s prison system.
Personally, I thought Katie was better off without them. And I’d make sure she wasn’t alone.
A yawn escaped before I could stop it. Mom kissed my forehead, again, and stood.
“Get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll check on you before dinner. Are you hungry?” I shook my head. My appetite still hadn’t come back. It might have something to do with having over an inch of knife blade stuck too close to my gut. “Okay, we’ll take it slow.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Sweet dreams.” She closed the door. And for the first time in more than two weeks, I was completely alone.
I gathered my strength and pushed myself off the bed. Taking the bowl of jelly beans with me, I shuffled over to my desk, eased myself into the chair, and set the bowl in easy reach.
“Hey, Red.” I brushed my laptop, my best friend for longer than I will admit. Opening her up, I clicked on the file I discreetly label MF. It had been too long, and it was time for some updates.
After a few minutes of fumbling, my fingers warmed up, and I got back into the rhythm.
So much has happened since I closed this file, I’m not sure where to start. For now, I’ll sum up: Sam is back, for good. I met some new friends—one of them a ghost!
That stopped me for a minute. I hoped Simon was okay. Zach still couldn’t reach him. I felt bad, since it was partly my fault. Misty, who had been spending practically every waking hour she wasn’t in school with Zach, told me he didn’t blame me, but she could tell Zach missed him. I seriously doubt he missed Simon too much when she was in the room.
Smiling, I continued.
After everything that happened (to be added later), the big news is this—the haven is going to reopen. I plan on being a big part of that project. The challenge will be telling my parents without inducing heart failure—or a permanent grounding.
Who knows what monsters, creatures, and Others will show up once the word gets out? Or what will happen next in the craziness that has become my life.
I can’t wait to find out.
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