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  If I bend just a bit, I can see Cydni, Luke, and the woman through the tank glass, between the swaying kelp leaves, above the conch shell. The three look a bit distorted, but I can hear their voices carry over the top of the aquarium. Perfect. I could stay here all day, and no one would notice. Even the volunteer greeter is out of sight. I shift and see both females are completely absorbed in what Luke’s talking about.

  “Yeah. I couldn’t stand to see her like that. My mom might be mad I left her out there with Sarah, but I couldn’t deal, you know?” He looks at Cydni. “I know that sounds lame, but it was horrible even from a distance. So bloody. So much gore.”

  “Oh,” I moan under my breath while a huge angelfish swims past.

  Cydni reassures him. “I know your mom is fine that you came in here. Believe me, I know how bad Sares looks, so your mom will understand. She probably didn’t even notice you left.”

  “Yeah. Right.” He bobs his head. “She was totally focused on my sister.”

  The older woman jumps. “Should I go to her?”

  “No,” Luke says quickly. “She would want privacy, and my dad should be here any second.”

  What a relief; Sarah has a father, and Mrs. McCormick will have support. I squeeze my brow under the bill of my cap.

  The woman nods and resettles in the chair. “Well, whether you stayed out there or not, it’s good you are here to support your sister and mom, Luke. I couldn’t believe it when Cydni called.” She sniffs and dabs her eyes.

  “Yeah. It’s tough, man.” Luke rubs his palms on his knees. “Can you believe I almost didn’t get here myself?”

  “Why?” Cydni asks. “What happened? I mean, tell us everything.”

  “Well, my phone was crammed with texts by the time I pulled up at school. Before I could read even one, everyone was running across the parking lot to tell me there had been an accident.”

  “I can imagine,” Cydni nods. “I was talking to 911, or I totally would have called you.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. So, anyway, I didn’t even turn off my truck. Someone yelled out that Sarah was airlifted here. I just backed up and took off. I was driving so fast that when I hit the ramp onto I-5, I pulled a 360 on the wet road.”

  “No way!” she and the woman gasp.

  “Can you believe that, Mom?” Cydni asks the woman, who has now gone pale.

  “Yes, way,” says Luke. “It was crazy. But I straightened her out without hitting a thing. It was unbelievable. Don’t tell my mom.”

  “That’s the last thing she needs to hear,” the mother agrees.

  “So, what else about the accident, Cydni? What haven’t you told me?” Luke asks.

  “Well, I told you it was Haddings who hit her. That stupid poetry intern. I can’t stand him.”

  I slouch and pull the collar up on my jacket.

  “Why’s that?” her mother asks.

  Cydni shrugs. “I don’t know, really. It’s just that all the girls go on and on because they are crushing on him, when he’s not even that cute. Basically, he’s arrogant and self-absorbed. I don’t get why everyone likes him, but whatever. None of that really matters anymore, since he ran down my best friend, you know? There’s a perfect reason to hate him now.”

  There’s a recollection on Luke’s face. “Oh, I know what guy you’re talking about! I mean, I’ve heard about him.”

  My hands shake as I pick up a pamphlet and hold it in front of my face. Arrogant? Cydni’s and Luke’s horrible impressions of me drone on.

  “Right,” says Cydni. “The one who organized and led the UW tour. You should have seen all the girls who went.”

  “I remember that,” says Luke. “Didn’t Sarah go, too?”

  “Oh, yeah. She told me she stuck close to hear his every word. Even got to sit at his table for lunch in the dining hall.”

  Luke nods. “Well, she’s really into UW, right?”

  “Mm hmm,” says Cydni.

  “Man, she’s going to freak when she hears Haddings was the one who hit her. I mean she likes him, doesn’t she?”

  Cydni tilts her head. “You could say that.”

  My face burns as I realize Cydni knows of Sarah’s attraction to me. She knows, and with how much she dislikes me, what might she choose to spin in the future? I can’t, can’t think of this now. I swallow. All that matters is Sarah’s state; the surgery is what matters.

  “Well, I could tear his head off.” Luke thumps his heel on the carpet.

  “After me,” says Cydni, crossing her arms.

  “Now, you two,” Cydni’s mom interrupts. “Let’s focus on the positive, not this negative energy, all right?”

  Their conversation peters, and I’m swallowed up by the other conversations around me. Moms and dads, kids and grandparents, all wearing worry on their faces, holding it in their clasped hands and curved backs.

  Looking over the top of the pamphlet on heart attack prevention, I see a man stride into the room. He’s tall, with curly, receding light red hair. A Boeing name tag dangles from his neck. “Dad!” says Luke. He hustles over to him and exchanges an awkward hug.

  “Finally,” I whisper.

  “It’s going to be all right, Luke,” the dad says. “Oh, Cydni and her mother, Chantelle, are here?”

  “Yeah. Cydni was there when it happened, Dad.” Luke leads his father to where they are sitting. “Did you see Sares or Mom out in the hall?”

  He shakes his head. “No, it was empty.”

  “Okay, well, Dad, listen. I heard a little bit earlier. They’re doing brain surgery, because some teacher hit Sares with his car. It was this poetry guy. This is super serious, Dad. Hemorrhaging and stuff. She — ​she might not be all right!”

  I massage my temples.

  As the reality starts to dawn on Mr. McCormick’s face, his wife steps into the room. She stands in the doorway, slightly swaying in her sleek black boots. Most everyone stops and looks over at her, but it’s her husband who rushes to her side now. For just a second, she curls against his chest.

  “Sarah is going to be fine, Janet,” he says.

  She jerks away, her brows squeeze close. “Mark, listen — ”

  “Let’s keep perspective. We don’t need any added drama.”

  My eyes widen.

  He keeps going. “Have you seen Sarah or the doctor?”

  “Yes, Mark.” Janet flips her hair back from her face. “Sarah’s having brain surgery. I signed the form to allow the surgery.”

  He takes a step back. “Why? Why did you do that?”

  “Because otherwise she’d have permanent brain damage or die.”

  My heart skips and drops.

  “God, please no,” Mark prays, looking up.

  “So,” Janet continues, “don’t stand there and tell me not to be dramatic, and everything’s going to be fine! Wake up” — ​she pokes him in the chest — ​“and deal with it.”

  He lifts his palms. “What? What are you talking about? I’m dealing with this. I’m right here!”

  “Sure, Mark. It took you how long to get here? I left messages everywhere.”

  “I was driving and couldn’t answer my phone. As soon as I got to the office, I turned around and headed straight here.”

  I wipe the sweat from my upper lip. Man. What would she say to me?

  She looks up at her husband and closes her eyes a second. “All right, look. It doesn’t matter now. I just know I asked you and I asked Luke to drive …” Her shoulders shudder. “If you had only …”

  “Janet, we can escalate the accusations or focus on Sarah.” He reaches out and barely touches her arm. When she flinches, he drops his hand, but he does lock eyes with folks around the waiting room. One by one they go back to the games on their phones, their magazines, and their books, or they just find their laps as interesting as I suddenly do. Even the little girl across the way starts singing quietly to her baby doll again.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the two parents make their way over to Luke, Cy
dni, and Chantelle. First thing, Janet gets right up in Cydni’s face. “Don’t you cry,” she says. “Do you hear me?” Her voice is needlelike. “They won’t let me see Sarah after the surgery if I’m crying. So don’t you cry and make me cry. Don’t you!”

  Cydni blinks fast and licks the tear off her cheek. “I won’t, Mrs. McCormick.”

  Chantelle lurches up, unsteady on her chubby legs. She bumps her way past a couple to get into the bathroom. It’s easy to hear her sobbing over the running faucet.

  Janet rolls her lips inward and shoves her hand into Luke’s. It’s like she holds on to him for Sarah’s life.

  I weave my trembling fingers together and squeeze them still.

  “I can’t believe the guy’s not even in jail,” Luke mutters. “I want to smash his face with my fist. Run him down with my truck.”

  I deserve it.

  “Enough, Luke,” says Mark.

  CHAPTER 15

  Haddings

  11:04 am

  As the hours tick past, my mind replays every second before and after the accident. I try to piece the actual event together, but I didn’t see it, so I really don’t know what happened. It’s a relief, actually, as I can’t imagine dealing with what Cydni saw, it playing on repeat in her mind. But then if I had seen, I could have swerved, I bet.

  Then my head fills with images of what they are doing to Sarah now: cutting and peeling back her scalp, sawing her skull open, cracking it back, suctioning blood, burning the leaking vessels closed, closing her up like the hood of a car, rolling her scalp back into place, and stitching her closed like that doll the child is hugging over there. The girl swings her legs, pats her baby’s head, then chews on its ear.

  My stomach tosses about, but it’s suddenly Luke who runs to the bathroom and pukes.

  “Are you okay?” Mark calls from the door.

  “Uh huh.”

  Mark goes to Cydni and Chantelle. “I want to thank you both for coming.”

  They nod and half smile. The mom pushes up her glasses and answers, “We love Sarah, and we want you to know we are here for you.”

  Mark nods like a bobblehead doll. Eventually, he sits down again and starts praying softly. “Have mercy on my baby girl. Have mercy. Preserve this precious life you’ve shared with us, and help me have mercy on that grad student.”

  I cough as quietly as I can, startled at this man’s kindness, or at least his good intention. Maybe there will be a right moment for me to speak to him, accept responsibility, and offer help.

  It’s an incredible mercy no one has seen me behind this fish tank. I scoot even farther behind the palm, thankful everyone has tunnel vision.

  Janet pinches the bridge of her nose and studies the CAT scan in her lap. The paper shudders as she folds it and slips it into her purse. Chantelle puts an arm around her while Janet stares straight ahead and whispers in a super eerie way, “I’m disappearing without a speck of control. All I can do is beg. Bless the surgeons. Bless the anesthesiologist. Bless the nurses. Bless the room. Bless my daughter’s brain. Bless the instruments.” Then, she starts the list over.

  “You okay?” Cydni asks Luke when he comes out and sits down beside her.

  He pops an Altoids and shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It all got to me, I guess.” He offers Cydni a mint then pockets the tin.

  “You love her is why. That’s what it is,” she says. “I’m sure of it, you know?”

  He blushes, but says, “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “So you think everyone’s heard Haddings hit Sarah?” Cydni asks.

  “I’m sure. Between texts and stuff. Definitely.”

  Cydni looks away from him and mutters to herself, “Thankfully, it’s over before it started.”

  “What?” Luke asks.

  “Nothing.”

  Luke pulls out his cell. “I wish we had reception down here.”

  “No kidding.”

  From my jacket pocket, I tug out Sarah’s poetry journal and find looking at it suddenly seems almost too intimate. She takes the class so seriously, it’s as if this book holds her heart. I flip to her last entry, Anna Akhmatova’s poem.

  Everything Promised Him to Me

  Everything promised him to me:

  the fading amber edge of the sky,

  and the sweet dreams of Christmas,

  and the wind at Easter, loud with bells,

  and the red shoots of the grapevine,

  and waterfalls in the park,

  and two large dragonflies

  on the rusty iron fencepost.

  And I could only believe

  that he would be mine

  as I walked along the high slopes,

  the path of burning stones.

  The journal quivers in my palm. Is this how she felt about me? Or is there another student she’s interested in? I can only hope.

  The poem taps at my own heart, and I lock the door on the sudden rush of feelings. It’s exactly what Warren said: “She can be beautiful, intelligent, even gifted, but you can’t allow yourself to get involved. Stay professional.”

  Right. Absolutely right. I’m just hyperaware, feeling sentimental because I’m the teacher … who hit her. I slouch a second, losing my view of Sarah’s family and friends, and lean my head against the cold fish tank. I stare down the small blue lobster raising his claws and skittering in the corner. Will Sarah walk again?

  The angelfish flits past the kelp, dislodging a small piece of a dead fish, which bobs up to the top of the tank. Manslaughter slams my mind, and my pulse speeds. Come on. Stop! Stop freaking out. I bend over, get my head lower. List what you know. List it. Sarah is in surgery, and she’s still alive. We think. They are operating because there is hope. Both of her parents are praying. I heard her in the hallway. She was speaking.

  Rising up, I watch the angelfish circle aimlessly. Matt Nathanson’s lyrics for “Car Crash” ring in my head: I wanna feel the car crash, ’Cause I’m dyin’ on the inside.

  No. No one is dying here. Especially not Sarah.

  12:11 pm

  When Janet gets up to check at the desk for news, this strange guy sits down with the others. His greasy hair strands swing as he tells jokes. His head jerks when he talks. What is he thinking? Doesn’t he realize it’s bad taste to laugh in a place like this?

  “And then the duck quacked!” He howls while everyone stares. “Me,” he keeps going, “I’m in here for soaking my foot in a bucket of bleach. Yep. Kept it in there a bit too long. Skin’s eaten away. Want to see? I can take the bandages off for you.”

  “No!” everyone around him yells.

  “Oh, all right. Well, then. How about this one? Man walks into a bar …”

  “What is this guy’s problem?” Luke says to Cydni. She only shakes her head.

  “Who was that?” Janet asks when she returns, as the guy’s being wheeled away.

  “Some crazy dude,” Luke answers.

  “Soaked his foot in bleach,” says Cydni.

  Janet sits down. “Some guy chooses to hurt himself, and he looks okay. My daughter didn’t do anything wrong, and she’s …”

  “What did they say, Janet?” Mark asks.

  “No news. She’s still in surgery.”

  “What will happen to Mr. Haddings?” Cydni asks.

  Janet shrugs, not really focused on her.

  “I suppose it depends on Sarah’s surgery,” Mark answers.

  “Will he lose his job though?”

  “I’d imagine, if criminal charges are filed. But if not, I suppose he’ll keep it, if they declare it an accident.”

  I swallow the bile back down my throat.

  1:34 pm

  Mark turns to his wife. “Can I hold on to the scan?”

  She slips the folded paper from her purse. It’s pressed between their palms for a second. Finally, he takes it, opens it up, and studies it. He carefully refolds the scan, sliding it into his breast pocket, behind a pen, which he takes out. “Sarah gave me this pen on Father’
s Day a few years ago. I think of her each time I use it. Well, at least the first time I use it each day. Sometimes.”

  The silence is the full-on awkward kind.

  He goes on to himself, more than to them. “Did I say goodbye to Sarah this morning? What was she wearing?”

  “That shirt she always wears, even though I told her the new one I bought her looked better. And a hoodie,” answers Janet.

  It was pink.

  And that ends that conversation.

  2:10 pm

  When the volunteer comes over and asks if I need anything, I quickly smile and shake my head so she returns to her desk across the room. With my knee bouncing, I wait, but none of Sarah’s family comes around the tank and palm fronds to confront me, so I settle back in the seat.

  The people in the room flow in and out like waves. Some roll away quietly, while others roar against the furniture and walls before disappearing down the hall. A few walk in circles like spinning eddies or sit trapped in small tide pools.

  I’m a pebble tumbling in the breakwater, waiting for a doctor to fling me onto the sand and tell me Sarah will live, and my future — ​our futures — ​are safe.

  Cydni comes over to the tank, and I quickly turn my back to her. She mutters to herself, “He messed with her, made her think she was special and that he was all into her, and then he goes and runs her down. Jerk.”

  No! That’s not true! I didn’t. What has Sarah believed this whole time, and what has she told Cydni? I didn’t lead Sarah on and instead tried to be clear. Pulling in a shaking breath, I whisper, “And I didn’t run her down! It was an accident.”

  I peek and see Cydni return to a seat beside Luke, who says, “I can’t keep my mind off it. My mind. My brain. Okay. Don’t think of Sares’ brain. How it’s probably gray. Is it spongy or rubbery? Stop thinking about brains.”

  Cydni shivers. Chantelle reaches over and pats Luke’s back, but he keeps up the monologue.

  “Watch the fish instead. Okay. Fish. How big are fish brains? Could you do surgery on a fish’s brain? Like that big angelfish? How would it compare to Sares’ brain? Stop it! Shut up, brain! Man, I’m sick of this place and waiting! It’s been hours now. It’s enough to kill a person’s brain.” He panics and looks to his mom. “Did I jinx Sares?”