All We Can Do Is Wait(38)

Skyler cried the whole way home, apologizing over and over again to her sister, who just stared straight ahead, trembling a little, taking deep breaths. “It’s O.K., it’s O.K.,” she said a few times, speeding all the way to the house.

Their grandparents were already asleep, so the girls quietly made their way up to Skyler’s room, where she cried some more. Kate made Skyler show her her arms, the bruises and marks that Danny had made.

“Give me your phone,” she said, and Skyler handed it to her. There were already texts from Danny, twelve of them, and Kate deleted each one. She then blocked his number and blocked him on Instagram and Facebook. “There,” she said, handing the phone back to her sister. “You’re done with him.”

Skyler looked up at her sister, calm and tired looking, and wanted to believe her. That she really was done with Danny, even though some awful part of her still loved him, even though he was only a few miles away.

And of course, it wasn’t done, not entirely. He showed up to Skyler’s house, but only once. Kate stood on the porch and threatened to call the police, their grandmother watching quietly from the dining room, a solemn expression on her face. Kate’s threats seemed to have scared Danny—he knew she was serious—and he didn’t come around again. There were occasional texts and calls from unknown numbers, though—still, eight months later. The awful part of Skyler, the part that still wanted Danny back despite everything, itched to answer every one. But when Skyler was clearer headed, not lost in Danny’s thrall for a day or a week, she knew she was ridding herself of him. Slowly and uncertainly, maybe, but she was. She knew that she couldn’t make him go away, not entirely, and that was still scary, many months later. But she at least felt more sure of herself, bit by bit, day by day. Like she didn’t have to tiptoe through the world quite so much.

In her bedroom that night, after they’d cleaned up the cut on her head and Skyler got into her pajamas, she threw her arms around her sister and said, “I’ll pay you back, I promise. I’ll do something for you, too.” Kate just laughed and said it didn’t work like that, and she and Skyler fell asleep together, like when they were little and their mom would be fighting with their grandparents downstairs, those bitter few months before she left for California, or wherever.

Their mom had left, their father remained an unknowable mystery. But Kate was always there, her warmth close to Skyler, enveloping and protecting her in ways Danny’s arms never could.

? ? ?

And now this. Kate could be gone, before Skyler was able to repay her, like she said she would. The hospital was cold, and Skyler’s clothes were still damp from running in the rain. She shivered. Alexa noticed and offered her the sweatshirt lying on her lap. “I took it off because I was hot. You can wear it if you want.” Skyler said no thank you, she’d be fine. They sat in silence, the sound of Kate’s voice, consoling and steady, echoing in Skyler’s head.

“My sister saved my life, I think,” Skyler said, to herself, to Alexa, not sure why she was sharing this fact with this stranger, but knowing that it felt good to say out loud.

Alexa nodded. If she wanted to know what Skyler meant, she didn’t ask. “Yeah” was all she said. “She sounds great. You’re lucky to have her.” Skyler’s eyes welled with tears. Lucky to have her. She couldn’t lose Kate, she couldn’t lose Kate.

She was repeating this mantra to herself, like she was back on the plane to Phnom Penh, when Alexa stirred and made a little sound. Skyler looked up and saw Mary Oakes, the Patient Services person, walking toward them with a serious-looking woman, short gray hair and little round glasses, beside her. Skyler and Alexa stood, Skyler fixing her hair for some reason, smoothing it down and collecting it all on one side.

“Skyler Vong?” Mary Oakes said, flat and grave. Skyler nodded. “This is Dr. Lobel. She’d like to speak with you about your sister, about Kate, if you could come with us, please.” The doctor nodded, smiled tightly, and Skyler felt the plane dip down toward the earth. She was falling and there was nothing left to catch her.





Chapter Nine


    Scott



ON THE FEW occasions that Scott had scored a goal during a soccer game—a few perfect fall afternoons when things had gone just right—there had been a moment when everything slowed. When the world distilled, and there was only Scott and the space of grass between him and the net, the movements of the goalie and the defenders becoming almost predictable, as if Scott had tapped into the Matrix and could see it all laid out so clearly in front of him, ones and zeroes streaming down in green. But weirdly they were also quick, these moments of excitement and frenzy, gone before they really had a chance to register.

Scott felt some version of that sensation—the world narrowing, both slowing down and flashing by—as he watched Mary Oakes and a woman who looked to be a doctor walk toward him. Was this it, the moment when he found out? That Aimee was dead, that Aimee was alive? He felt anxious, his insides tight. The doctor had spiky short gray hair and little glasses, and her mouth was tight with—what was it? Concern? Pity? Scott braced himself, stood up taller and clenched his jaw, as the doctor approached.

But then she and Mary Oakes walked past him and over toward Alexa and Skyler, both girls looking up, then standing up, a flutter of hesitation, of fear that they were about to hear the worst. The news wasn’t for him. Scott felt a rush of relief quickly followed by another stab of fear. He still knew nothing, and now, from the looks of it, someone else was about to have their world cave in.