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“Well, I guess if you’re feeling up to it, your friends can come on in,” the nurse said.
“Who . . . ?”
“Did she zay come een?” Jetta poked her curly-haired head through the doorway and looked around. The rest of the club was visible over her shoulder.
“Don’t be too rowdy.” The nurse edged her way out the door as the club came spilling in.
“Hey, Boss!”
“Mein Chef!”
“You look like hell!”
Miles looked at all of them—Art, Jetta, and the triplets— gathered at the foot and side of his bed, and frowned.
“What are you all doing here?”
“We’re your friends,” Theo said slowly, like she was explaining some fundamental truth to a child. “We were worried about you.”
“See?” I said. “They do like you.”
“Who said anything about liking him?” Evan asked.
“Yeah, we never said we liked you,” said Ian, smiling. “We just prefer that you don’t die.”
“Where would we be without our fearless leader?” Theo added.
“How’d you guys get out of school?” Miles asked.
“Skipped,” said Art. “Wasn’t hard.”
“You two are, like, heroes,” said Theo. “The story is in every paper. Have you seen all the presents you’ve been getting?” She motioned to the stacks of cards and flowers on the table by the window. They’d been arriving on an hourly basis since the story had gotten out.
“I still don’t understand why they’d send gifts,” Miles said sharply.
“It was your mom,” Theo said. “She told us the story— why you did all that stuff in school, why you worked all the time.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell us?” Ian asked, but Miles didn’t seem to hear him. He was looking past Jetta, toward the doorway.
“Mom.”
June leaned through the door, clutching a large purse in both hands, looking like a deer in headlights. She took a few steps into the room. I wondered if this was the first time in years she’d really been outside of Crims—Woodlands. I wondered if she’d only been able to leave for Miles.
We all filed out past her.
I stopped outside the doorway and looked back in. June held Miles tightly, rocking back and forth. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear him laughing and crying and saying something muffled by June’s shirt. A moment later, a smartly dressed woman walked past us into the room. I waited in the doorway long enough to hear her reassure them that everything would be better, then ducked out into the hall.
The triplets went down to get food while everyone else headed to the waiting room. I went with them; my parents were around somewhere, and I wanted to tell them what was going on.
I didn’t even have to leave the floor to find them. They sat in a small, secluded little waiting room, alone except for my doctor and the Gravedigger. Their voices were strained and hard. Anxiety settled in my stomach. They hadn’t seen me coming down the hallway, so I pressed my back to the wall and crept closer, positioning myself around the corner.
“I don’t think we have any other option at this point.” That was the Gravedigger, talking like she had any say in what happened to me.
“How could she have known that it was falling?” Mom asked. “Unless . . . ?”
“But they said the principal loosened the supports,” Dad said. “He was trying to drop it on that girl. Lexi didn’t have anything to do with it—she was just reacting.”
“Still.” Damn you, Gravedigger. Shut up. Shut the fuck up. “This incident can’t have done her any good. She’s unstable. I’ve noticed her getting worse all year.”
“But we’ve seen her, too,” Dad pushed. “Good things have happened, too. She’s coping. She has friends. A boyfriend, even. I wouldn’t feel right, taking that away from her.”
“I think Leann may have a point, David,” my mother said.
The Gravedigger jumped back in again. “In my professional opinion, this is a critical time, and she needs to be in a safe, monitored place where she can regain control. I don’t mean to restrict her, and I’m glad she’s added to her support structure. But that doesn’t change the facts.”
I couldn’t listen to any more. I made my way back to my room, where the lawyer had left but Miles and June were still smiling and laughing.
“Alex, dear, there you are!” June motioned to me. “Come and sit over here for a while; we have so much to talk about!”
“I’m feeling a little tired. I think I’m going to sleep for a while,” I said.
“You get all the rest you need.” June smiled warmly. “There will be plenty of time to talk afterward.”
I pulled myself into the bed and yanked the sheets up, my face and side burning with pain. I wondered how much time I would actually have.
Because as much as I hated it, and hated this, and hated her, the Gravedigger was right.
Chapter Sixty
I woke up once in the middle of the night. Bloody Miles stood at the end of the bed, blue eyes wide and piercing, blood oozing from his freckles. Holding his hand was a girl with blood-red hair and a million cuts on the side of her face, her eyes as wide as his. They stood there for a long time, staring at me. Neither of them said a word, but they both smiled with bloodstained teeth.
Chapter Sixty-one
I woke later. It was still night. Miles was writing in his notebook. He looked over when I rolled onto my back and sat up.
“Feeling any better?” he asked, smiling.
“No, not really.”
He closed his notebook and set it in his lap. “Come here.”
I tottered to the edge of his bed, pulled my legs up next to his, and leaned my head back against his shoulder. His arm wound around me.
The world was hollow. What had been the point of this year? Senior year, all the college applications . . . would it have been better just to go straight to the hospital after Hillpark? I was the one who said no. I said I could do it; I said I had it under control. The only thing my parents could be accused of was trusting me too much.
Miles waited patiently, pretending to be interested in brushing my hair back.
“My parents are sending me to Crimson—to that hospital. I heard them talking about it.”
“But you’re old enough—they can’t decide that for you,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
