I grab my boots and start walking down the stairs. I’m halfway down the second landing when Sam rounds the corner.
“Well, that’s not staying.” He looks disappointed.
“Sorry. I just…I didn’t want you to…” I stammer. Finally, I hold up my free hand. “I’m kind of bloody. It’s really gross.”
“It’s just blood.” He pauses. “It’s nothing to be scared of.” Sam lifts up two paper bags. “I got you covered.”
He gestures for me to sit, so I do. He kneels in front of me, and ever so slowly, he takes my right foot and then gently peels down the sock. The bag reveals alcohol wipes, gauze pads, antibiotic cream, and first-aid tape. For the next few minutes, I stare in a near trance as this boy, whom I do not know, cleans up my blood and puts me back together. Soon, I have clean white bandages covering my wounds.
“There. That’s much better, huh?” He admires his handiwork and lifts his chin to me. “Hey? Did I hurt you? Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” I whisper.
The back of his hand grazes my face, and I feel dampness on my skin. I cannot move. Sam turns his palm to my cheek, and I instinctively lean against it, closing my eyes. He waits until an eternity passes, and I open them again. His hand moves to mine, and he begins wiping the blood smears until all traces are gone.
“Better?”
I nod. “Better,” I manage.
He rolls up my socks and stuffs them into one of the bags. From the other, he pulls out a new pair of socks, and with the utmost care, he rolls them over my feet. There’s no reason that I can’t put them on myself, but I’m too busy looking at the shape of his lips. They are so smooth and full.
“I should go,” I blurt out. “To find my family.”
“Oh.” He adjusts my sock one more time. “Sure. Sorry about the socks. It’s what the gift shop had.”
For the first time, I notice that Sam has dressed me in Wonder Woman socks, complete with stars and capes hanging from the top hem.
“I know. You probably hate them. It was these or frogs. Or fuzzy purple ones, but they looked a bit eggplantish. Okay, fine, there might have been a white pair, but—”
“I love them.” I look up at him again. “I love Wonder Woman. And now…I…I have to go.” I press my feet into my boots and move past him to the landing before I turn back. “Thank you, Sam Bishop.”
He smiles. “Thankyou, Stella Ford.”
I exit the stairwell from the level below and then take the elevator back down to the floor I originated from. I locate a nurse who tells me where my sister’s room is. Perhaps it’s the Wonder Woman socks, but I am feeling better and desperately want to see my father and sister. No more of this waiting-around nonsense.
Amy’s room is easy to find, but as I’m about to step in, my plans to run over and hug her and Dad are halted.
Amy is standing by the window, looking outside at the snowstorm that is now in full force. Her blonde curls tumble over her shoulders and down her back in a wild mess. Her face is extraordinarily pale, but what I notice more is her expression of fear.
My father, normally so happy and easygoing, is pacing the room. I don’t like seeing him this strung out because he’s the sane parent in the family and the one who balances out my mother.
“I’m so sorry, Amy. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”
He steps into her to embrace her, and I am shocked to see her shove him away.
Dad freezes and then drops his head. “I would undo this if I could. Don’t you know that? But what was the alternative? To let you go?”
Amy turns to him, her eyes flashing anger—or panic maybe. “What have you done? God, what have you done? How could you?” she screams. “I am seventeen years old, and my life is over!”
Dad walks slowly to the edge of the bed and sinks down. Very softly, he says, “Except that it can’t be.”
She explodes. “And what about that other kid? I saw it.” She begins to sob and covers her face with her hands. “That poor kid. I wish we were all dead! What is this?”
“Amy, shh!” Dad pleads. “Stop. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Believe that.”
I have stopped breathing. Nothing they are saying makes any sense. Silently, I back away from the door and edge down the hall to the elevator. I cannot think and cannot feel anything right now. All I can do is make my way back toward the waiting room.
As I near the entryway, my mother walks past me, brusquely bumping into my shoulder, as she moves down the hall.
