CHAPTER
twenty-seven

Marvel’s car was parked in the driveway, and she waited behind the wheel, patiently, for Hugo to come out so she could take him home with her for the day. Nick and Dick sat in the backseat, equally still but—I imagined—less than patient.

We all knew that Hugo needed time with Clara. Just a few minutes.

Albert and I waited in the kitchen, cups of coffee going cold on the countertop.

“Why do you have to go away?” Hugo asked, his voice so sad it broke my heart. “I can take care of you.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” she told him. “I should be able to look after you.”

“Will you come back?”

“Yes, baby. As soon as I’m better.”

“Are you sick?”

“Yes.”

They were quiet for a handful of minutes, and I struggled not to stick my head into the room to make sure everything was okay.

“Aunt Birdie will take good care of you,” Clara said after a few minutes, her voice thick. “You do as she says, all right?”

“Yes.”

“Will you draw me pictures?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. You’d better go.”

Again, quiet.

“I love you,” Clara said. “Don’t forget.”

“I love you too,” he answered.

He stepped out of the bedroom, rubbing at his eyes. Eyes that were rimmed with red and swollen from crying.

What a strong little boy, our Hugo.

So much like his mother.

Albert offered to drive, and I was glad for it. I could barely see straight to walk let alone keep a car on the road. He helped Clara out of the house, holding her steady just like he’d done the night before. This time, though, she let her head rest on his shoulder as if it was too heavy to hold up herself.

I’d never had a hangover, but I could only imagine how greatly unpleasant it was.

“Watch your head,” he said to her, easing her into the back of the car. “All right?”

He waited for her to answer before shutting the door.

“Thank you,” I told him. “You’re so careful with her.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything, which was not a surprise to me.

I went around to the other side of the car, climbing in beside my sister and taking her hand in mine.

“I’m sorry, Birdie,” she said. “I’m such a problem.”

“You aren’t,” I said. “Don’t be sorry.”

Albert drove slowly, as if worried about jostling us too much. Every once in a while he’d check his rearview mirror, never looking in my direction, but in Clara’s.

The hour it took to get there seemed to go fast even with all three of us riding silently. I thought over all the things I wanted to say to her, but they all left my mind when we pulled into the parking lot outside the imposing building of dark brick and barred windows.

Albert drove up to the doors and rushed around to Clara’s side to help her out. I sat in the car by myself for only a moment, not able to shake the idea that this could be the last I’d see of my sister. Stomach clenched and bile working its way up my throat, I feared that I was walking her into a death sentence.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whispered. A prayer.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car.

I waited with Clara until we could be seen by a nurse. She kept her head on my shoulder the whole time, humming a song that was vaguely familiar but that I couldn’t quite place. It sounded like a lullaby, and I wondered if it was comforting for her.

Then I wondered if she even hummed it to calm me.

When the nurse at last came to take her away, I doubted my decision. I thought of how I could take care of her at home. That she’d be fine if only I could love her enough. I was tempted to jump up from my seat and shoo away the nurse, telling her we didn’t need her after all.

But then I remembered the cut on Clara’s arm and realized it would take more than love and prayers and gentle words to help her get better.

“Miss Clara?” the nurse called into the room. “Will you come with me?”

My sister lifted her head. “I’m scared, Birdie.”

“I am too.” I took her hands. “Together?”

I stood first, and when she was up, I took the first step. We walked together, her arm over my shoulder and both of mine circled around her middle.

The nurse smiled when we reached her but didn’t budge from the middle of the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Only Miss Clara today.”

“Oh, of course.” I loosened my hold on my sister.

“Take care of Hugo,” Clara said, shuffling away from me.

“I will.” I grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it. “I love you.”

She nodded, letting the nurse lead her away.

When the door clicked behind them, I wished that Albert had stayed inside with us.

I wasn’t sure I had the strength to walk out to the car.