Driving back, a hundred possible excuses as to why I took off with Leira ran through my head. None of them were any good and were a distraction I really didn’t need while driving. Leira had already been through one scrape with death that day, as had Jack and I. It took Jack’s jerk on the wheel and the blare of a passing car’s horn to jar me back to reality. I gave up on a feasible story; we’d just have to wing it, a prospect that seemed dicey now that I was no longer “bird girl.”

I parked as close to my original spot as possible. Jack lifted his brows but didn’t say a word when, after gently removing Leira, I chucked the infant carrier into the backseat of some random-to-him car we passed on our way into the building.

Luckily, the hospital was still teeming with people. It appeared that the newer, multilevel wing had been completely evacuated, and the security detail had been reassigned to deny admittance to the upper floors. Having hatched a pretty thin plan, I described it to Jack, found my way to a standing-room-only waiting room, located an out-of-the-way corner, and slunk down against the wall.

“Good luck,” I said to Jack. “You know where to find me.”

I still don’t know how much time transpired between then and my mom shaking me awake. As much as I’d like to proclaim it a thorough acting job, I really had nodded off.

“Kat, wake up. What on earth are you doing?” my mom said.

“What? Huh?” I noticed Jack standing behind her.

“Where have you been?” She scooped up the also-slumbering Leira and pressed her to a wet cheek. “I was so worried. No one knew what happened to you two. Betty had seen you up on the floor, but . . . Why were you even there? If I hadn’t bumped into Jack, I’d still be looking.”

I rubbed at my eyes. I was having a hard time keeping track of who was aware of my double life and who wasn’t. It was a lot to do when just coming to. And now I had to fabricate.

“They said there had been damage to the hospital,” I said. “There was no cell coverage, either. I rushed over to check on her. They were moving everyone off the wing because of possible structural damage, but at one point she’d been left in the hallway unattended.” Because I had kicked over a cafeteria cart, but it was no time for unnecessary details. “So I brought her down here,” I continued. “She seemed better while I was holding her. She settled down and slept, so I just found us a safe corner.”

“She does seem better,” my mom said, her eyes growing big. “A lot better.”

“I hope I didn’t get anyone in trouble,” I said. Meaning me, most of all.

“But I’ve walked through this waiting room at least twice.” Frown lines pressed her forehead into waves. “I would have seen you.”

An all-white-clad figure with a crisply starched smock over polyester floods and lace-up, mall-walker shoes appeared before us. “I see you’re awake now.” The stern voice first addressed me. “I’ve taken it upon myself to check on the two of them from time to time,” Grim said, then leveled that steady gaze of hers upon my mother. She straightened her volunteer badge.

“Oh, you’ve been here?” my mom asked.

“All evening,” Grim said with authority.

OK, so that uppity clack of hers had its advantages. And for the first time ever, I sensed we were on the same team, flock as Hulda had so recently called it. Too bad such solidarity had to come post-suspension, post-loss of powers.

Another figure, one with a clipboard, hurried up to Grim and reported to her like a new recruit to a general. “I have another three volunteers arriving who need assignments,” she said to Grim.

I had to blink back my surprise. This subservient do-gooder was none other than Dorit, our expelled-for-revealing-secrets former Stork, who — last I’d heard — had left town amid a cloud of shame, distrust, and suspicions. I started to open my mouth but received such a quick flare of nostrils from Dorit that I clamped my lips, biting my cheek in the process.

“I will be right with them,” Grim said. “As long as everything here is fine.”

“Yes,” I mumbled.

“And thank you,” my mom added. “Thank you so much.”

Grim nodded to my mother, nodded to me, and strode away with Dorit scurrying behind her.

A lump formed in my throat. So I hadn’t been right about everything. Life, people still had the capacity to surprise me. And Grim looked good in white; it flattered her features, rendered her softer, prettier even.

“I should find Stanley and let the nurses know everything’s fine.” Again, my mom hugged Leira close to her. “I just can’t get over how robust she looks, though I hardly dare say it.” She walked away, cooing to a pink-faced Leira.

Jack lowered himself to sit beside me on the carpeted floor. “I caught a bit of CNN while I was roaming, trying to bump into your mom.”

“What’s going on?”

“A lot of head-scratching over the coincidence of so many natural disasters.”

“Like?”

“Earthquakes in Australia and California. Electrical storms along the eastern seaboard. An avalanche in the Andes. A wildfire in China.”

“So our storm?”

“Just a blip on the world’s radar.”

“A blip,” I repeated.

He nodded his head yes.

“I think I could get used to being a blip.” I tucked my hand under his.

“Me, too,” he said, cupping his own around my fingers and squeezing.

“Wanna be blips together?”

“Sure. One thing, though.”

Uh-oh.

“What?” I asked.

“No more secrets, no more heroics, no more asinine, self-sacrificing plots.”

Asinine. Ouch.

“How could I, anyway? Just a blip, remember?” I said.

He didn’t look convinced.

I dropped my head on his shoulder. “You know I did what I thought was my only option, but I’m sorry if it . . . excluded you.”

He lifted my chin with his finger. “Don’t ever . . .” He had a hard time continuing.

“What?”

“Just promise you’ll include me in your travel plans next time.”

“I promise.” I laughed and then melted into him for a kiss. It was sweet and hot and promise-worthy. I definitely intended to include him in my future travel plans, all plans, for that matter.