Going to school that morning, Snow hadn’t realized it was a half day. The teachers had conferences on statewide reading scores, so classes were dismissed just before lunch. Riding her bike down the school hill, Snow wondered why they had even bothered having school at all that day. If they hadn’t, she could have spent extra time on Elk Island. Timing was weird.
Snow prided herself on asking the big questions. Pedaling madly through town, she let herself wonder about the possibilities. All the stores had their Christmas decorations up. Wreaths and garlands were everywhere, white lights twinkling like an urban galaxy. It hadn’t snowed in a few days, so the old snow was gray and disgusting with sand and car exhaust. Nothing like Elk Island.
Parking in front of Cloud Nine, she stared at the dark window. No lights, no garlands. Snow was surprised; she had thought Sarah would decorate right away. Was Sarah still in the hospital? A white paper had been taped to the inside of the window. Stepping closer, Snow read the note:
Cloud Nine will be closed until the Monday after Thanksgiving.
Until then, stay warm, and sweet dreams!
Snow frowned. Sarah had written that note before they’d left for Elk Island, which meant she was still in the hospital. Was her back that bad? Snow had a few twinges and bruises from the plane crash, but nothing serious. Suddenly she had an awful thought: What if Sarah’s illness had come back? Jumping onto her bike, she rode home as fast as she could.
Zooming up Windemere Hill, she prayed everything would be okay. Fearing for Sarah, she wanted her mother. She hoped Julian was working, testing cars at the track or something. Snow wanted to find her mother, tell her about Sarah not being at work, get her to call the hospital for her. She wished her father still lived with them, that he would be home waiting for her.
Thinking of Sarah, all Snow’s insecurities crashed in, filling her with such dread that by the time she reached the top of the hill, she collapsed against the front door. She found her inhaler and used it.
‘You’re home early,’ her mother said, walking to the front door.
‘Hi … Mom …’ Snow said, wheezing. ‘Teachers’ … conferences …’
Her mother stood there, arms folded across her chest, a very I-told-you-so look on her face.
‘What?’ Snow asked.
‘Nothing,’ her mother said, her lips tight. But then she made herself smile. Drawing Snow into a hug, she kissed both her cheeks. ‘Teachers’ conferences, that’s right. We forgot to check the calendar this morning.’
Snow nodded, trying to get a good breath. She wanted to tell her mother everything, about why she was so scared. Sensing that her mother didn’t like Sarah, she didn’t want to come on too strong. She exhaled and spoke.
‘Mom,’ she said. ‘You know Sarah Talbot?’
‘The woman you spent Thanksgiving with?’ her mother asked with a mean tone to her voice. ‘Yes, I know who she is.’
‘I’m kind of worried about her. She was supposed to be at her store, but she isn’t. Do you think she’s still in the hospital?’
‘You stopped by her store on your way home?’ her mother asked, frowning and totally missing the point. ‘Did you ask permission? Susan, when are you going to learn you have to let me know where you are? My God! If you’d had an accident, or if someone snatched you –’
‘No one did, Mom,’ Snow said quietly. Already she knew she had made a mistake. She should have called the hospital herself, not asked her mother. She stepped away. It was a weird feeling, needing her mother and wanting to escape from her at the same time.
‘You’re grounded, Susan,’ her mother said calmly. ‘I was going to wait for Julian to come home to tell you, but now seems like the time.’
‘Grounded?’
‘Do you have any idea how much you worried me?’ her mother asked, her face getting all red. ‘When you didn’t come home last Wednesday? And then to get a phone call from New Hampshire, on your way to an island with a family I’ve never even met?’
‘You know Dad,’ Snow said.
Her mother shook her head. ‘Don’t be fresh. Go to your room and think about this. I want you to really understand what’s going on here. I’m not grounding you for the fun of it. I love you more than anything, Susan. And Julian …’
‘Don’t even say it,’ Snow said, backing away. She had never been grounded before. She knew she had misbehaved, she hated that she’d made her mother worry, but she wouldn’t be able to stand it if she heard her mother say anything like ‘Julian cares about you’ or, worse, ‘Julian loves you too.’
‘I will say it. Julian is your stepfather. He is my husband. You might not like him, but he cares about you.’
‘Aargh!’ Snow wailed, putting her hands over her ears.
‘He does! Do you know how hard it’s been for us? Trying to make you happy, trying to make us into a family?’
‘We are a family,’ Snow said. ‘Already. Julian’s just not part of it.’
‘He’s my husband now. Your stepfather, honey. He has no children of his own, Susan. He might not be perfect, but he tries so hard with you. Do you know what he said about that stupid cat? “Let her keep it,” he said. I was fit to be tied that your father and Sarah whoever-she-is would let you have a cat, considering your allergies.’
‘Dr Darrow?’ Snow asked, her nerves tingling.
‘Naming him after your doctor,’ her mother said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘When all we ever wanted was for you to get some help …’
‘Where is he?’ Snow asked, her heart pounding.
‘I took him to the pound,’ her mother said, starting to cry. ‘You’re allergic to him, honey. You can’t have a cat, you know you can’t …’
‘The pound?’ Snow cried, the words tearing out of her chest. ‘He’s my kitten, and he needs me!’
‘They promised they’d find him a good home,’ her mother called, but Snow didn’t wait to hear the rest. Flying upstairs, she ran into her room.
Sarah was waiting. After such a short time, she had grown used to counting on Will. He didn’t have to come, but she knew he would. When he came through the door, she lay with her head on the pillow and smiled. Just seeing him made her feel content, and she sighed.
‘Hello,’ he said, coming right over to sit beside her.
‘Hi, Will,’ she said.
‘How are you today?’
‘I’m about the same.’
‘Is the pain as bad?’
‘No,’ she said. They were giving her medication, so the bursts weren’t so sharp. But the pain was there. It was like having a toothache in her whole body. Now that Will was there, she could think. How strange that he would become as important to her as air or sunshine. Before he had come into her life, she had functioned just fine alone. But suddenly she needed him, just to be clear.
‘Have you seen the doctor?’ he asked.
‘Yes. He was here this morning. I had my MRI, and I guess he’ll be back later. I missed you.’
‘God, I missed you,’ Will said. As if he’d been waiting for her to go first, he dove on her in a massive hug. Closing her eyes, Sarah felt his strength in her skin, her bones. She didn’t want him to let go.
‘Don’t stop,’ Sarah whispered when he showed signs of loosening her arms.
‘Have you called Mike?’ he asked.
‘Shhh,’ Sarah said, closing her eyes tighter and hugging harder. She didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want the reality of plans and notification to start seeping in.
‘Because I did,’ Will said.
Sarah’s eyes sprang open. ‘You did?’
‘Yes,’ Will said.
‘You didn’t … tell him?’ she asked.
‘I did.’
‘Will!’ Sarah struggled to sit up. ‘You didn’t. Tell me you’re kidding.’
‘Why would I kid, Sarah? I –’
‘You don’t just tell Mike something like this, that the cancer’s back. He’s angry and so sensitive and he’s scared, Will … I don’t want to drive him further away when I’ve just started to get him back.’ Anger filled her chest, and she couldn’t speak anymore.
‘He wanted to come,’ Will said.
‘What do you mean?’ Sarah asked, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
‘When I told him, he wanted to come here, to see you.’
‘He did?’
‘Yes.’
‘Come to Fort Cromwell?’ Sarah asked, her eyes filling with tears. It was all she could imagine wanting. ‘Mike?’
‘And your father.’
‘Oh, Will,’ Sarah said, burying her face in her hands. She could hardly imagine it: Mike returning home and anything getting her father off the island. The image of her father on the mainland, a bewildered expression on his old face, miles and miles from the only place he had ever known, filled her with such love, her body shook with silent sobs. She felt Will’s arms around her.
‘If you want them to come here, Sarah,’ Will said quietly, ‘I’ll go get them. But I was thinking about something else.’
‘What?’ she asked.
‘I know you’re in pain, I know it would be a lot to ask you to sit there for the time it would take, but if you’d like, Sarah, I’d like to take you home.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, Sarah. Really.’
Sarah raised her head. She was picturing a blue sky, the endless sea, an eagle flying in wide circles, dark pines growing down to the edge of the bay. She held his hand. It sounded so right, more right than anything she had heard in a long time.
‘Take me home, Will,’ she said.
An hour later, Dr Boswell gave her okay. She upped the dosage of Sarah’s pain medication for the trip, switching from Demerol to morphine because the pain was so bad and could get worse. Will was a guy with a mission. He took directions from the doctor. He had called Meg Ferguson, and she was there, giving him various instructions as the hospital nurses got Sarah ready for the flight.
‘Don’t worry that you’re giving her too much medication,’ Meg said, crying. ‘If she asks for it, give it.’
‘Okay.’
‘When you get to the island, do you have a nurse?’
‘Sarah’s aunt is on that now. She called a hospice in Maine, and they’re setting everything up with a visiting nurse.’
‘Good. Hospice, Will. Hospice for Sarah. You know what that means, don’t you?’
‘I do know, Meg,’ Will replied patiently. Meg sounded bossy and kind of harsh, but she was blowing her nose, wiping her eyes.
‘I wish I could be her nurse,’ Meg said. ‘I’d like to fly up with you, but I can’t leave Mimi …’
‘Sarah understands.’
‘Shit, I thought she was going to be okay.’
‘So did she.’
‘I’d like to wring Mike’s neck,’ Meg said. ‘You weren’t around during the chemo and radiation, but he’s all she ever talked about. And now she has to go chasing off to Elk Island, Maine, just to see her son one last time.’
‘That’s not why she’s going,’ Will said.
But Meg didn’t want to understand. She was furious at the universe, at something bigger than herself, and she didn’t want to be talked out of resenting Sarah Talbot’s teenage son. Meg Ferguson was a visiting nurse, but she was also Sarah’s friend.
‘I’ve been carrying this around with me for a month,’ Meg said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a picture. ‘I’ve been meaning to give it to Sarah.’ She handed it to Will. It showed Will and Sarah standing together at the fair, between the hot dog stand and the Gypsy eternal flame. They were embracing like long-lost lovers, and the expression in Will’s eyes amazed him. He had looked madly in love even then.
‘Mimi took it,’ Meg said.
Will stared at the picture of himself and a woman he had just met. They might have gone their separate ways that day, never to meet again. Instead, they were connected forever.
‘Can I keep it?’ he asked.
‘Sure,’ Meg said.
Will thanked her, sliding the picture into his breast pocket.
‘What else do I need to know?’ Will asked. They were standing in the hospital corridor, and he had his eyes on Sarah’s door, waiting for the nurse to come out and say she was ready to go.
‘That it isn’t going to be easy,’ Meg said.
‘I’m losing Sarah,’ Will said, the harshness in his voice suddenly matching Meg’s. ‘I don’t want it to be easy.’
Meg touched his forearm. The door to Sarah’s room had opened, and a nurse was pushing Sarah in a wheelchair. Will tried to smile so she wouldn’t be scared. She looked so tired, and he couldn’t imagine getting her all the way from here to Elk Island. Watching Meg crouch down, to say good-bye, he took a moment to pull himself together.
‘Mimi wants me to tell you to have a good trip,’ Meg said.
‘Tell her thank you,’ Sarah said. ‘She hooked me up with a good pilot.’
Meg grinned up at Will, nodding.
‘He’s not bad,’ she said.
Will made a sound, wanting to say something funny, self-deprecating. But the picture in his pocket was burning over his heart, and all he could think of was the look in his own eyes.
‘My friend,’ Sarah said, taking Meg’s hand.
‘Mine,’ Meg said, clasping Sarah’s.
‘You’ve been with me through so much,’ Sarah said.
‘I have a lot of patients,’ Meg said. ‘But not many that have become friends like you.’
‘Your patients are lucky,’ Sarah said.
Meg shook her head, bowed it to wipe her tears. Meg’s stethoscope dangled from the pocket of her white lab coat. Her canvas bag was full of patient records. But just then she was just a woman who had come to the hospital to say a good-bye. Her training didn’t make her any more able to handle what was happening.
Sobbing hard, she rested her forehead on Sarah’s shoulder.
The part that killed Will was, Sarah was holding herself together. They were two women about the same age, both mothers, one of them going through something everyone feared. Sarah had leaned on Meg through all the months of treatment, and now she was being strong for the nurse who had let herself get attached.
On their way to the airport, Sarah looked at Will. ‘I want to say good-bye to Snow,’ she said.
They were at a stoplight. Will took her hands. The drugs were taking hold, and her arms felt leaden. Getting through the meeting with Meg had been hard, but she couldn’t avoid the people she loved. She wouldn’t. Her eyelids were heavy, and her mouth felt dry as cotton. Will was staring at her, and his eyes were pools of blue. Sarah had to struggle to focus.
‘She’d want to come with us,’ he said.
‘I know.’
‘Her mother would never let her.’
‘She doesn’t have to come,’ Sarah said. ‘We can tell her she can’t this time. But I have to say good-bye.’
‘Sarah,’ Will said, looking so worried. ‘The flight’s going to be hard enough. It’s going to upset you, seeing her. It’s going to upset her.’
‘Please, Will,’ Sarah said. She didn’t have the strength to argue. ‘She didn’t get to say good-bye to Fred. Think of how she’d feel.’
Will was silent, but he nodded. His hands were tight on the wheel as he turned to look at Sarah. ‘You’re right,’ he said.
Snow had called the hospital. They told her Sarah had checked out, but she wasn’t at her store and she wasn’t home. She tried calling her father to ask him, but his answering machine was on at work and his phone just rang and rang in his empty apartment. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Snow filled with possessive panic. What if they were off somewhere together, forgetting all about her, just when she needed them most?
Dr Darrow was at the pound. How could her father and Sarah be getting romantic together when her kitten was in mortal danger? Just picturing the pound brought tears to her eyes. She imagined a horrible concrete building filled with howling, abandoned animals. Just like an orphanage in England, one of the cruel ones with no heat and mean workers.
Would Dr Darrow think she had abandoned him? She had loved imagining his joy, to go from being one of the extra cats to being Snow’s beloved pet, and now he was shivering and alone, probably being attacked by bigger cats and possibly even dogs at the pound, thinking she didn’t care anymore. Snow had to get him back. She had to.
‘Susan,’ her mother called.
Snow’s door was closed. She clenched up, hugging her pillow for comfort. Julian had come home early, and he and her mother had been sitting downstairs, waiting for her to come out. They’d have a long wait, Snow thought. Her mother’s footsteps sounded harsh on the hall floors, as if they belonged to some warden in an uncaring institution.
‘Susan,’ her mother said again, sounding slightly urgent and even somewhat caring. Snow pictured her standing just outside. She could practically see the worry lines in her mother’s brow, the little frown she got when someone she loved was in trouble and not doing things her way, and Snow felt herself wanting to see her again.
‘The name is Snow.’
‘Yes. Well … honey. Your father is downstairs. You’d better hurry.’
Gasping with surprise, Snow tripped as she jumped off her bed. She stubbed her toe and didn’t even care. What could this be? Her father never came to this house unless it was to pick her up or drop her off. Had he magically heard about the crisis, brought Dr Darrow back to her? Running past her mother, not even stopping when her mother said wait, she wanted to tell her something, Snow flew down the great marble stairs, sweeping and circular like those in a mansion in a movie. Julian stood at the bottom, pointing at the library door.
‘Dad!’ Snow yelled, tearing into the library. ‘They took Dr Darrow to the pound!’
‘Honey,’ her father said, stopping her short. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her deep in the eyes. Snow had only seen that look one time before. She drew a shocked breath.
‘What, Dad?’ Only then did Snow see Sarah. She was sitting on the burgundy velvet love seat off to the side, under the portrait of Julian’s grandfather. Slowly, Snow walked across the room to stand in front of her. ‘Hi, Sarah,’ she said.
‘Hi, Snow.’
‘We meet again!’ Snow said, beaming. Julian and her mother were standing there, looking pained. Her father’s face was grave, but Sarah was smiling in that beautiful, warm way of hers that made you forget other people’s bad moods.
‘We do,’ Sarah said.
‘Did you hear about Dr Darrow?’ Snow asked, lowering her voice. ‘My mother thinks I’m allergic to him, but I’m not. I’m going to get him back.’
‘Susan, you have terrible allergies,’ Julian said with a very master-of-the-house tone to his voice. ‘I think we all know that.’
‘She didn’t test positive for cats,’ her father said. ‘She knows I wouldn’t have let her bring home a cat if she did.’
‘I’m getting him back,’ Snow said straight to Sarah as if the men hadn’t spoken. She wanted to reassure Sarah that the Elk Island kitten would be properly loved despite the rocky homecoming. It suddenly struck Snow as extraordinary that all the important adults in her life had gathered in this room.
Smiling, Snow really caught Sarah’s eye. Sarah smiled too, and Snow started to laugh. ‘Is this weird?’ she asked.
Sarah shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Why not?’ Snow asked.
‘We’re here because of you,’ Sarah said. When she put it like that, it made sense. Why shouldn’t they all come together, considering they all had one thing in common: her! Snow was on the verge of cracking up some more, but then she realized she was on the edge of hysteria. Something awful was happening.
‘This isn’t about Dr Darrow, is it?’ she asked, sitting beside Sarah.
Sarah shook her head. For the first time, Snow noticed how pale she was. Her skin was almost pure white, glistening like a candle just below the flame. Her eyes were dull, which for Sarah seemed bizarre. She was trying hard to stay focused. Snow watched her stare and stare, not wanting to take her eyes off Snow’s. As serious as it was, Sarah didn’t stop smiling.
‘What is it, then?’ Snow asked.
‘I’ve come to say good-bye,’ Sarah said.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Back to the island,’ she said.
‘Alone?’
It took so long for Sarah to answer, Snow’s father took a step forward to help her. ‘With me,’ he said.
‘What?’ Snow asked, looking around the room. ‘Can I go? I have to! If you’re going, Dad, so am I. Tell him I can, Mom …’
Sarah put her hand on Snow’s wrist. Snow sensed her mother leaning toward them, but she didn’t say anything. ‘No, Snow,’ Sarah said. ‘You can’t come.’
‘What do you mean? Why are you going?’
‘Susan …’ her mother began, her voice thin. Julian put his arm around her.
‘I’m sick again,’ Sarah said.
‘No …’ Snow said, clapping her hands over her mouth. Sarah couldn’t be sick. She was too healthy! They had just gone cross-country skiing! Watching Mike fall into the pond, they had prayed for him to be safe, and he was. Sarah had had rosy cheeks, she had carried firewood, she had eaten big meals and asked for more.
‘I want to be with Mike, and your father is going to fly me.’
Sarah was the only one who knew what she meant. All the other adults took steps forward, into the center of the room. They were talking, saying she had to stay in Fort Cromwell and go to school, be at home, be with her mother. Snow heard every word, but she blocked them out. She wasn’t talking about going to the island. She meant it wasn’t fair that Sarah was sick.
Sarah reached out her hand. Her hair looked so great. Staring at it, Snow could hardly believe how awful it had looked just two weeks before. All yellow-gray, and now it was a cap of cool, iridescent white-gold.
‘Your hair looks pretty,’ Snow said, lacing fingers with Sarah.
‘Thanks to you,’ Sarah said.
Snow nodded. Lowering her head, she tasted the tears flowing into her mouth. Sarah’s hand felt small and alive. Her life was everywhere: in her hands, in the room. Sarah had a force of energy about her. Snow could feel it now, actually felt it quivering and moving the air around her.
‘Will I see you again?’ Snow asked so quietly only Sarah could hear her even though the others were standing right there.
‘I don’t think so,’ Sarah said.
Snow nodded. With her eyes closed, she savored Sarah’s presence. She’s right here, Snow thought. Soon she’ll go, but for now she’s right here. Snow had never had that with Fred. She had never known that moment of transition, when he passed from her sight, from her presence, from her life. Holding tighter, she clutched Sarah’s hand.
‘I have some things of my brother’s,’ Snow said.
‘His socks, for example,’ Sarah said.
Nodding, Snow pulled up her pants leg to reveal the maroon alligators.
‘Names have been important,’ Snow said, keeping her voice steady, informative. Her mother groaned, but Julian held her back. Snow heard the honest pain in her mother’s voice, but she kept talking anyway. ‘The names have to remind me of him. He loved snow.’
‘I know.’
‘I’ve been wondering what to call myself next. It has to begin with “S” because that gives me serenity. I’ve been considering ideas that make me think of Christmas, that would bring Freddie a little closer for Christmas.’
‘You’ll think of something,’ Sarah said.
‘I have,’ Snow said. Raising her head, she looked into Sarah’s eyes. ‘Sarah.’
‘Oh, Susan …’ her mother said, the sob shaking her whole body.
‘I know you never knew Fred,’ Snow said, gripping Sarah’s hands. Now that she was talking about this, she knew that soon she would have to let go and that made her hold on harder. ‘But it seems like you do. You talk about him with me. Whenever I want, and you seem to want to know him better. When we saw that whale, when I said he had angel wings, you knew I was thinking of Fred. Didn’t you?’
‘I did,’ Sarah said. She was holding on just as tight.
‘You would have loved Fred,’ Snow said.
‘I believe I would have.’
‘Don’t be sick, Sarah.’ The words just came out. There was nothing Snow could do to take them back. She knew they were stupid to say, that it could only hurt Sarah because she would be well if she could, and they made Snow start to cry. She leaned right into Sarah and held on tight.
‘I loved that whale,’ Sarah whispered, stroking Snow’s head.
‘You’re going to see him again … when you get to the island.’ Snow sobbed.
‘I will,’ Sarah said.
Snow cried for a few minutes. She felt her father’s hand on her hair, heard him whisper something. Knowing it was time for them to leave, him and Sarah, made Snow cry harder. That brought on an asthma attack. She had to use her inhaler.
‘I want to be called Sarah,’ Snow said. ‘It’s your name, but it’s about Fred too. You’re connected because of the whale.’
‘Thank you,’ Sarah said.
Snow nodded, miserable. She clutched Sarah’s hands. How terrible it was that in a few minutes all she’d have left of Sarah would be her name. Wearing someone’s socks, taking talismanic names, were such poor substitutes for the real person. This was hurting her mother’s feelings. Snow could tell by her mother’s occasional sniffles, by the way Julian said ‘We’ll deal with this later’ in a big stage whisper.
‘I’m honored,’ Sarah said. ‘But how would it be if, instead, you took another name?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like Susan,’ Sarah said.
‘Susan?’
Sarah nodded.
Snow just stared.
‘It’s a beautiful name,’ Sarah said.
Snow waited, her mouth slightly open.
‘It’s the name your parents gave you,’ Sarah said.
‘But it’s not enough,’ Snow said. ‘It’s just my name. It doesn’t mean anything, remind me of anyone.’
‘Fred knew you as Susan,’ Sarah said gently, still holding her hands. ‘Not Snow, and not Sarah.’
‘But I miss him,’ Snow said, her face twisting. ‘And, Sarah, I’m going to miss you!’
‘Oh, I know,’ Sarah said, smiling. ‘That’s why I wanted to see you. Because I’m going to miss you too.’
‘But there aren’t any new Sarahs.’
‘Maybe Mike will name a daughter Sarah. Maybe he won’t …’ Sarah said, smiling as if it didn’t matter.
Bowing her head, Snow bit her lip. Sarah’s eyes were sparkling again, more than when she’d first arrived, and Snow wanted it to last forever. But when she picked up her head, the clouds were back. Just a few, off in the distance, at the back of her bright blue eyes. Sarah held her gaze; she wouldn’t look away until Snow did first.
‘We have to go,’ her father said. He had one hand on Sarah’s shoulder. Reaching out his other hand, he waited for Snow to take it. Snow’s mother stepped forward. She put her hand out too. To take her parents’ hands, Snow would have to let go of Sarah.
‘Honey?’ her mother said. She was just standing there, an expression of expectant worry on her face. She didn’t have jealousy in her eyes for Sarah being there. She didn’t have anger at Will for their situation. She didn’t even have insecurity about Julian. She had only love, pure and simple, for her only daughter.
‘Dad, you’ll have a safe flight, won’t you?’ Snow asked, still looking at Sarah.
‘Absolutely,’ her father said.
‘Really safe,’ she said just to be sure. This was the moment to ask again, to beg her parents for permission to go, but something held her back. A feeling of peace settled over her shoulders, like a soft shawl of Aunt Bess’s, and a shiver ran down her back. Sarah’s hands were warm, holding tight. Staring into her eyes, Snow could see Elk Island: the dark bay, the northern lights, Mike.
‘Your father says it’s time to go,’ her mother said, still waiting. ‘Honey?’
Sarah nodded. Snow nodded back, then turned toward her mother. The sight of her mother filled her heart with love and gratitude, as if she had never really understood how lucky she was. Her father had his hand out, palm up. The big clock in the hall chimed: fourteen hundred hours.
‘Honey?’ her mother said again.
‘The name’s Susan,’ Susan said softly, giving Sarah one last hug, possibly the biggest and best one she had ever given, before letting go of Sarah’s two small hands and allowing her parents to pull her to her feet.
She stood there, her eyes closed, gently weaving. Sarah was going to leave. When she opened her eyes, it would be the last time she ever saw Sarah, ever.
‘Thank you,’ she heard her mother say to Sarah.
‘You have a wonderful daughter,’ Sarah said back.
Susan just stood there, rocking on shaky legs as she held her parents’ hands, afraid of what she’d see because soon it would be gone.
‘I love you,’ Susan said, not directing her words to anyone in particular. In a way it didn’t matter who heard. Her eyes sprang open, and they were all still there.