“Okay, okay!” I shouted.
They paused midtickle, my dad’s hands curled like cartoon claws.
“I didn’t wish for anything,” I said.
My mom’s face fell. “Nothing at all?”
My dad scooped me against his side. “I think that’s great.”
Alone on her side of the bed, my mom looked at him and raised her brows.
“You, princess, won’t need to wish. You’re going to earn.” My dad looked down at me, beaming. “You’re off to high school in a month. And you’re going to work until you’re the best student in the whole damn school. After that, the good things will come to you. ’Cause you’ll deserve it.”
“Stop it,” my mom said softly. She was looking at him with the strangest expression.
“What? I’m telling her to work hard to achieve things. That’s a good lesson. I’m not saying things will get dropped in her lap. I’m saying if she’s talented enough, and works hard enough, the world will deliver. It’d better, huh? I’m counting on it.” My dad squeezed me tighter, and I let him, let myself think about how nice it felt, even though there was no guarantee he’d do it tomorrow. “Come on, you’re going to make me proud.”
I wanted to. A fierceness came over me. I would. If hard work and being good were what it took, I could do those things. If that could keep us in the sunlight, keep the darkness at bay, I would work at it every day.
“I promise,” I said.
My dad laughed and kissed my forehead. And before my mom could say anything, he’d pulled her in, making us a three-person sandwich, me in the middle, my parents hugging me on either side.
Warmth flooded me.
“Just try your best,” my mom whispered into my hair. “That’s all you can do.”
My dad pulled us closer. “My little family,” he said. “You two are the best things in my life.”
I caught my mother’s eyes. She was smiling, telling me it was okay. “It was your dad’s idea to surprise you,” she said, tucking a strand of my hair.
“This is just the beginning,” he said. “We’ve got a whole day of fun. I remembered a certain someone loves the zoo.”
My mom rolled her eyes. “When she was eight. She’s fourteen now.”
He only laughed.
This version of my dad was surreal. I didn’t know how to make sense of it, how to square it with the other version. Then a thought struck me: my dad was the angry man in the dark place, true. But maybe he was also this man—this bright and funny father. I’d always thought it was one or the other, fixed and definite. But maybe it was more complicated. Maybe he was both.
He kissed my forehead. “You’re going to do great things, I’m telling you.”
I buried my face in his shirt, and he put his arms loose around me, like he was making a basket with me in the center. If this upswing ever ended, and the darkness swallowed him again, maybe all hope wasn’t lost. Maybe I could find a way to keep this version of my father with me. Then, no matter how bad it got, I could remember how he was now. Maybe that way he could keep being this person, even when he wasn’t. Maybe then he could stay mine, stay warm and solid in my arms. Even one day, when he wasn’t.
Chapter 45
Now
I woke with wet cheeks to the five of them standing around my hospital bed, watching me. I jerked back, snapping the restraints that kept me bound to the bed, tugging painfully at my newly stitched side.
“Easy,” Jack said, holding out his hands like he was placating a scared animal. “Didn’t mean to startle you. We need to talk.”
I’d spent two days lying in this bed, staring at the white walls, giving one-word answers to a fast-talking lawyer who swore he was a friend of Coop’s and would keep me out of jail. Two days of skipping past the local news, first with its nonstop coverage of the Homecoming Queen Killer, the Femme Fatale of Blackwell Tower—my picture flashing, a wildly unflattering photo someone must have pulled from the depths of social media. And then the one-eighty flip to Breaking News: Shocking Developments in the Heather Shelby Cold Case, an image of Mint, one of his professional headshots, and then Heather, looking so unbearably young. Two days without my phone, without word from anyone, wondering where the hell they were, what they were doing.
Last night I’d finally given up on seeing them. Fallen asleep with the understanding that I’d made my choices, and now, as a consequence, I was going to be alone for a long time. Maybe forever.