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"You can't save the world. Willow. You have an obligation now to take good care of yourself and fulfill your and your father's dreams. Stay in touch, and call me if you need anything, anything at all," he said.
I thanked him and ended the call.
Thatcher took one look at my face and knew it wasn't good. "What?" he asked. and I told him about Miles,
"Why did he die clutching blank paper?" he wondered.
"I think he saw something on it that no one else could see. That doesn't mean it wasn't there." I added.
"Huh? I don't understand."
"Me, neither," I said, and rose to greet my mother.
"He's resting comfortably, but he is still disoriented. Nothing he says at the moment makes much sense, I'm afraid. It's going to be a long journey back," she added with a deep sigh.
"Then you had better take good care of yourself. Grace Thatcher said. "You'd better get some real rest and be strong:"
"Yes. Yes, that's sensible advice." She looked at me. "For you, too."
"I have to leave for a while. Mother," I said. "I have to go home." I had already told her about Miles and described how close he and my father had been.
"Miles?"
I nodded. "He's passed away."
"Oh. I'm sorry, You have too much to carry on those young, fragile shoulders. Willow. You go home and straighten out your legal matters and everything. You should return to college, too. I'm sure your father would not approve of your throwing it all aside," she said.
"I'm not. but..."
"I'm not going anywhere, and from the looks of things, neither is Linden. It would only make me feel more miserable to know you were sacrificing so much because of me."
"I'm not doing anything I don't want to do," I said.
She smiled. "I know, but that doesn't mean it's good for you or right. Pretend your father is sitting there listening to us," she said, nodding at an empty chair. "What do you think he would tell you to do? Listen to that voice," she advised softly, "that voice inside you."
I took a deep breath and looked at Thatcher. He stared at me a moment, and then he looked away.
"Take me home," my mother said. "I do need some more sleep."
"Okay."
"I just have to check on some things at my office," Thatcher said quickly. "I'll come by as soon as I can."
His cell phone rang, "I'll see you later." he promised as he answered the call.
I threaded my arm through my mother's, and we leaned on each other as we walked to the elevator.
"You haven't known Thatcher very long," she said. "No. I haven't."
"He's a very bright man and, I always thought, a very nice man, despite the world he comes from and lives in, but we're sometimes too weak to do battle against all that, and it changes us."
"I know."
She smiled. "I think you're a very smart young lady. I see the way he looks at you and the way you look at him. Sometimes, it doesn't have to take that long to know there's magic there.
"But," she said, looking off into her own world of memories, "often magic isn't enough. Just remember that, and you'll be fine."
Would I? I wondered.
