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“Let’s hope.” Amelia smiled. “Well, I’m all done here for now, unless you’d like some company when you go to the hospital to have that nasty old cast removed.”
“We’re good,” Mam said before I could reply, wrapping a possessive arm around my shoulder.
Amelia’s expression was unreadable. “I’m not your enemy. I’m here to help Margo, always.”
“It’s my job to keep her safe,” Mam retorted. “Even from the people who think they’re well-meaning.”
Amelia looked like she wanted to argue then deflated. “I’ll see you around, Margo. No need to see me out.”
She slipped out of the room before I could think of something to say to smooth things over. I turned on Mam as soon as the front door closed. “That was kind of rude.”
“She’s… I don’t know.” Mam shivered. “She makes me feel like she’d dissect you to figure out how you work.”
“Nobody’s going to dissect me,” I said. “And if you keep pushing away the people trying to help us, we’ll be left dealing with everything alone.”
“Ever think that might be for the best?”
“No, Mam, I don’t. Can you not see that I like these people? That even Dad likes them? They make me feel safe. Can you not give them a chance for me?”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment.
Frustrated, I shook my head. “Fine, can you at least help me plait my stupid hair?”
“It’s not stupid.” She picked up a brush and pushed me onto the bed so she could reach the top of my head without having to stretch.
I felt like a kid again as she brushed, imagining she was sending away a scary thought in my head with every stroke. If only that was as easy as it used to be.
When she had finished, she sat next to me to hug me. “I love you,” she said firmly. “All of this is terrifying. Nobody teaches you how to protect your child from their real family. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”
I hugged her harder. “You’re my real family. Nothing else matters.”
“Oh, sometimes I wish we’d never moved here,” she whispered against my ear. “I wish it would all go away.”
I pulled back to look at her. “Mam,” I said, desperate to make her understand. “I don’t regret it at all. I know I complained at the start, but I love it here. I’m making friends, real friends. I’m not pretending to be something I’m not to fit in. People know I’m weird, but they don’t even care. My best friend from back home is happy I'm out of her life. The weirdness was too much for her, but please, please don’t say it’s too much for you, too.”
“You are mine,” she said fiercely. “I chose you. Maybe I’m jealous of these new people in your life, but what you go through, I go through, too. I’ll never give up on you.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because things might get weirder.”
“Then I’ll have to figure it out.” She shot me a misty-eyed smile. “Now let’s go get rid of that cast.”
Mam hadto deal with some paperwork at the hospital, so I left her to look for a vending machine, flexing my newly freed arm as I went.
Instead of finding the vending machine, I ended up walking in the opposite direction. I glanced around, surprised. Had I been sleepwalking again? Except, no, I felt different. Drawn away, but not out of control, I wasn’t mindless or frightened. Death wasn’t calling to me, but I felt its presence anyway.
So I decided to find it.
I kept walking until I felt compelled to stop outside a ward. I stood at the doorway, looking inside. The bed closest to me was home to an elderly man. Tubes ran into the veins of his bruised, bony hand, and he looked swamped in pyjamas that were far too big for him. His eyes were closed, and his breaths so shallow, I wasn’t sure if I imagined them.
Death was close. Death had come for him. Death was all around him, surrounding him, filling the air, and yet it wasn’t scary. It felt right, somehow. And I knew there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it. There was no accident or murder, nothing that could be stopped. Death was supposed to be a natural thing, a certainty that came for everyone. I felt so calm, so reassured, so prepared. It was the old man’s time, and that was okay.
On the occasions when it wasn’t time, when it wasn’t okay, when I wasn’t calm or reassured or prepared, and my body was propelled forwards by an unseen force, was I supposed to do something? I’d doubted myself since Adam; saving him had led to a lot of trouble, almost causing multiple deaths. How could I not feel responsible?
Death beat around me until the man’s heart stopped. A monitor beeped loudly, and a nurse came running, but it wasn’t the panicked rush of somebody who could do something. She was going to witness an expected end, hurrying so he wouldn’t pass alone—except he wasn’t alone. Death didn’t feel lonely at all.
“Margo?” Mam gingerly touched my arm, sounding concerned.
Her presence felt like an interruption. I let her lead me away, but I couldn’t help looking back, feeling a release as death retreated and left nothing in its place. I hoped the old man had a good life, that he had left without any regrets.
