People hospital or animal hospital first?” Mom J says at breakfast.

“People hospital!” Hannah and I shout at the same time.

Mom C made us a huge breakfast. Blueberry pancakes, sausages, grapefruit cut in half, even some of the applesauce that Mom J and I canned in the fall. Hannah and I both have our plates piled high. We picked at the stir-fry last night and didn’t even have dessert, so we’re crazy hungry now.

Hannah’s uncle had to go to work this morning, so Mom J and Mom C are driving Hannah to the hospital. My moms said they could arrange for Hannah’s dad to meet her in the lobby and bring her up to see Margo and Spencer, in case she wanted family time, but she said she wanted me to come with her. We’re in this together, after all. I’m so excited about being a bonus sister. Plus, I’ve never seen a nine-hour-old baby before!

Once we’re done eating, we clear our plates and then Mom J comes out of the bathroom with her downstairs thermometer (yes, she has now purchased one to keep upstairs as well).

“What’s that for?” I ask, dodging her as she’s coming toward my ear.

“I want to make sure you’re both healthy,” she says. “Newborns are very susceptible to colds.”

“Good idea,” Hannah says. “We also have to wash our hands a lot.”

As Hannah offers her ear to Mom J, I realize how much she sounds like a big sister all of a sudden.

We’re both fever-free (as if I didn’t know that) so I go up to my room to get dressed and Hannah runs to her house for fresh clothes. My moms recently told me that we’re going to Captiva Island for spring break to visit friends, but Greeley is actually feeling like my home now. I pull on a pair of jeans and the long-sleeve orange shirt that Mom J got me at the Gap and then glance in the mirror. I love the blue streak in my hair. I can’t wait to go back to school on Monday and see what people say about it.

When I get downstairs, Hannah is in the kitchen. She’s wearing the exact same long-sleeve orange shirt that I am.

“No way!” I say. “No. Way.”

Hannah looks over at me. “No way! When did you get it?”

“Wednesday,” I say. “At the mall.”

“Me too!” she says.

We both crack up. What a totally Og Twins occurrence. It reminds me of that first day we met, how we both had on the same tie-dye tank top. I actually tried mine on recently and it was too small.

On the way to the hospital, Hannah is chewing her nails and tapping one foot against the car floor. That’s what she does when she’s nervous. I keep trying to distract her, but it’s not working.

“I’ve got a good palindrome,” I say. “As I pee, sir, I see Pisa.”

“Thanks a lot,” Hannah says, groaning. “That just made me want to pee.”

“Now you’re turning into me!”

We pull into the circular driveway in front of Greeley Memorial Hospital. My moms drop us off, and then they drive to a deli to get sandwiches for Hannah’s parents.

We step into the elevator and Hannah pushes 10. Mom C told us that that’s the baby floor.

On the ride up, I say to Hannah, “Have you decided?”

Hannah knows exactly what I’m taking about. “The way I see it,” she says, “there are three or four palindrome boys’ names. There’s Bob, of course.”

“But that doesn’t sound like a baby,” I say. “That sounds like a fifty-year-old fisherman.”

Hannah nods. We’re now passing the third floor. We have seven more floors to decide.

“What about Izzi?” Hannah asks. “Or Natan.”

“Pretty good,” I say. Now fifth floor. Now sixth floor. I know Hannah wants to have this figured out before she sees Spencer. “What about Otto?”

“Otto,” Hannah says. “Spencer Otto Strafel.”

We’re just coming up to nine. “His initials would be S.O.S.”

“Which is cool,” Hannah says.

“And also happens to be a palindrome,” I add.

The elevator dings at ten.

“That’s perfect,” Hannah says as the doors open.

We step off the elevator and walk down the hall, arm in arm, to meet Hannah’s little brother and give him his middle name.