37

The principal hurries onstage and shoos Krysta and the other girls off. They reluctantly go into the wings, still holding their signs.

Mrs. Perez click-clacks up to the podium in her high heels, her cheeks pink with what I know is anger. I can’t imagine how much trouble Krysta will be in for making those signs.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Perez says as the kids give her half-hearted applause. “Mayor Perez is recovering quickly and will return to work soon. He asked me to read a speech that he wrote for the occasion, but I’d like to say a few words first.”

She glances out at us, and I can tell what’s coming. She has the same look she always gets when she’s about to scold Krysta.

“I’m sure many of you know that a boy in this school and his family have broken the rules. They’ve used Amber when they weren’t supposed to. They’ve taken advantage of their community and have tricked us and lied to us. Westbrook is a wonderful town, and it will only stay that way if we hold true to our values. Of course children should be cared for, but they should also be taught to follow the rules. That’s why Michael Porter will be kept in the hospital until my husband returns to work. After that, he will be sent back home to his own country, where he belongs.”

There’s a long pause as her words echo through the auditorium.

“But what about the other sick kids?” a voice calls out, breaking the silence. For once it isn’t Anton asking a question. It’s Krysta. She comes out from backstage and stares her mother down. “What’s going to happen to them? The ones who were born here?”

Mrs. Perez looks thrown for a moment. Then she regains her composure and says calmly, “Our doctors are doing the best they can, and we’re recruiting volunteer staff.”

“But there’s not enough Amber, is there?” Yuli asks, stepping out onstage, with Ava at her side. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Yuli speak so loudly.

“Not at the moment,” Mrs. Perez says. “But we’re looking into different options.”

The principal rushes over to try to stop whatever this is, but Eileen steps out first.

“Mrs. Perez, how can you talk about following the rules when your own family hasn’t been following them? When the mayor almost died because he took too much Amber?” Eileen’s voice cracks, and I can tell she’s remembering the day when she could have died too.

Mrs. Perez opens her mouth, but then she closes it again, as if she’s at a loss for words.

After that, the questions really start. “What if we get really sick?” Anton calls out from a couple of rows ahead of me. “What will happen to us?”

“Why aren’t there more doctors?” someone else yells.

More kids in the audience start calling out while the principal practically pushes Krysta and the other girls off the stage. Then he goes up to the microphone and demands silence or he’ll start handing out detentions.

Finally the kids quiet down, and Mrs. Perez starts reading her husband’s speech. But no one’s listening; anger sizzles through the crowd like water boiling. It’s more than that, though. It’s fear.

I realize that my parents were right. All of this—the protests, the attacks—are because people are afraid. Just as I’ve been afraid for years and years. Maybe for my entire life.

I’m not afraid anymore.

Suddenly I know what to do. I get to my feet and hurry toward the front of the auditorium.

“Back to your seat,” the principal hisses at me when I get to the stairs leading up to the stage.

The familiar warnings sound in my head. Careful, Mira. Don’t stand out. Blend. But I’m through listening to those warnings.

“Mrs. Perez!” I yell, interrupting her speech. “I know the answer! I know how we can help the sick kids!” I’m surprised by how loud my voice sounds, how it booms through the auditorium, demanding to be heard.

Mrs. Perez glances in my direction, and when she sees that it’s me, her face hardens. She turns back to the microphone, pretending she didn’t hear me, and continues reading.

“I know how we can help the sick kids!” I shout again, even more loudly, but Mrs. Perez still ignores me.

“Get back to your seat now, or you’ll be suspended,” the principal tells me. He grabs my arm, but a roar of protest echoes through the auditorium.

“Leave Mira alone!” someone cries. “Her dad saved the mayor’s life!”

The principal gives me a surprised look. “You’re Mira?” I guess he’s never had a reason to notice me before.

“Hear her out!” a few of the kids yell. Some others join in, chanting, “Let her talk,” until Mrs. Perez can’t ignore them anymore.

She stops trying to read her husband’s speech and comes down the steps toward me. Then she waves me out into the hall, clearly unwilling to let anyone else in on our conversation. As I follow her, I hear the principal scrambling to get the assembly back on track.

When we’re alone in the hallway, Mrs. Perez puts her hands on her hips. “What is so important?”

“I propose a trade,” I say. “My dad used to be a doctor. Mikey’s aunt was a nurse. If you let Mikey stay, they can help treat the people who are sick.”

Mrs. Perez rolls her eyes. “One doctor and one nurse won’t be much help, when the hospital waiting room is spilling out onto the streets.”

“Well, Westbrook only has one of each right now,” I say. “And my dad and Mikey’s aunt know how to heal people without Amber. They can help train your volunteers.”

“Your father barely speaks the language,” Mrs. Perez says. “How will he train anyone?”

“I’ll translate for him.” My brain clicks with an idea. “And I’ll help him write a training manual so that you’ll be able to teach lots of people how to heal without Amber.”

But Mrs. Perez shakes her head, as if she’s barely listening. “My husband can’t simply let that little boy go. If we let him stay, what will that say to everyone else who’s here illegally?”

“You mean to people like Grandma and Grandpa?” Krysta’s voice rings out behind me. “Dad’s parents came here when they weren’t supposed to, didn’t they?” She comes to stand beside me and links her arm through mine.

Mrs. Perez looks surprised for a moment, probably wondering how Krysta knows the truth about her grandparents. Then she says, “There was a war. Your father’s parents did what they had to do. But they still broke the law. We can’t forget that.”

As much as I hate to admit it, I see her point. The laws might be unfair, but like Miss Patel said, there’s a process to change them. It won’t happen overnight.

“Then at least let the doctors cure Mikey before you send him back,” I plead. He might be stable now, but once the Amber works itself out of his system, he’ll start getting sick all over again.

“Do you know how much Amber it would take to cure him?” Mrs. Perez asks. “The hospital can’t afford to give that away, especially not to an outsider.”

“But we can,” Krysta says. “I bet we have more than enough in our well.”

Mrs. Perez’s eyes dart around the empty hallway, as if she’s afraid someone will overhear. “Without that well,” she says in a harsh whisper, “we’ll be—”

“Just like everyone else,” Krysta breaks in. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

Mrs. Perez lets out a hiss as she looks at me. “You,” she says. “You’ve put all of these foolish ideas into my daughter’s head. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Before I can say anything, Krysta breaks in and says, “You’re one to talk, Mom.”

Mrs. Perez glares at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know what you did,” Krysta says. “I followed you that night. I saw you throwing tomatoes at Mira’s house.”

Mrs. Perez freezes for a moment. Then she rolls her eyes and says, “Who cares about a few tomatoes?”

“Mom, I found the shoes you hid in the garage,” Krysta goes on. “The ones with spray paint all over them.” She turns to me. “It was the same color as the writing on your car.”

I stare at Mrs. Perez. “You’re the one who put that sign on our lawn and broke our window?” I ask. I shouldn’t be surprised, not when we’ve made Mrs. Perez’s lovely little neighborhood imperfect with our accents and our scraggly lawn.

Mrs. Perez’s face tightens. For once, she doesn’t look perfectly composed and flawless.

Without another word, she turns and walks away. But she doesn’t go back into the auditorium. Instead she hurries out of the school as if she’s scared she’s being chased.