It was morning, and Rose had watched the light in the hospital room change from darkness to dawn, as the outlines of the TV, wooden chairs, and night table acquired definition in increments. She had barely slept, worrying about Amanda, and said more than one prayer for her.
Well, are you happy now?
Outside the closed door, there were sounds of people talking, metal carts rattling, and an unidentified beeping, something mechanical. She caught a whiff of breakfast being served, an eggy smell rather than the proverbial coffee aroma, and either way, she wasn’t hungry.
We could lose the house.
Melly was still asleep, so Rose leaned over carefully, slid a hand into her jeans pocket, and pulled out her BlackBerry, checking the time. 8:26 A.M. She wished she could call Leo, but the cell phones supposedly interfered with the medical equipment. Last night, she’d texted him, and the red stars on her phone meant that she had new texts, emails, and calls. She pressed the button to see if he’d texted back.
Babe, Hope Amanda pulls through. Call me. Love you.
Rose thumbed the rollerball to check her email and skimmed the list of senders. They were parents of kids in Melly’s class, who must’ve gotten her email address from the class list. She opened the first email:
You have a helluva lot of nerve acting like you’re a hero when you were happy with letting those kids die. All you did was save your own hide and child
Rose swallowed, closed the email, and opened the next.
I will never understand how some people can be so blind to the needs of others. God will judge what you did
She closed the email, and didn’t want to read the next one, but the sender’s name caught her eye. Barbara Westerman. Danielle’s last name was Westerman, so Rose clicked Open:
I am outraged that you would care so little about my daughter’s safety. She was terrified and had to run out of the building all by herself. She could have died or been gravely injured, like Amanda! We don’t need selfish people like you in Reesburgh, and you should go back to
Rose closed the email, shaken. She clicked over to her phone calls. The log showed new calls from Unknown Numbers, and she didn’t call her voicemail to listen to the messages. She had a sense of what they’d say.
Melly was shifting in bed, her eyelids fluttering and her oxygen tube slipping, so Rose readjusted the oxygen, forwarded the last three emails to Leo, turned off the BlackBerry, and slid it back into her jeans pocket. She turned to Melly and brushed a stray hair from her forehead, just as the door to the room opened and a young orderly stuck his head inside.
“Anybody hungry?” he asked, with a smile.
“Sure, come on in, thanks.” Rose motioned to him, then returned her attention to Melly. It was the first chance she’d had to get a look at Melly in the daylight, and she eyed her with more care than usual, like Dr. Mom:
Her eyes, large and blue, still looked bloodshot, and her skin, which was on the fair side, seemed reddish, whether from the antiseptic used to clean it or from the smoke’s irritation. Her nose was small and turned slightly up, but showed redness around the nostrils, which was to be expected, and her lips, also thin like Rose’s, looked dry and parched. Bernardo had always said that Melly looked exactly like Rose, except in a dark blond Bernardo wig, and Dr. Mom decided she looked fine.
“Hi, Mom.” Melly raised her arms and hugged Rose around the neck. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mel. I hope you got some good sleep. You conked out.” Rose eased Melly back onto the bed. “Do you feel like waking up and eating a little breakfast? Or do you wanna rest?”
“I want to wake up.” Melly rubbed her eyes. “Can we go home?”
“Not yet, not until the doctor says.”
“Breakfast!” The orderly placed the tray on the night table, then blinked when he spotted her birthmark. He pointed at the scrambled eggs under their steamed-up cover of thick amber plastic. “Eat up. Help you grow up big and strong.”
“Thank you,” Melly said, raspy, getting into a sitting position as he left the room, closing the door behind him. She lifted the lid, releasing the smell of institutional eggs. “Is this all for me?”
“Yes.”
“My throat hurts. Do I have to go to school today?”
“No, it’s Saturday. You’ll feel better soon. Drink this.” Rose opened the water bottle, poured some in the flexible cup, and helped her sip some.
Melly swallowed, grimacing.
“It’ll be okay soon.”
“Do you have my Beedle the Bard book?”
“No. Sorry.” Rose had forgotten to ask Leo to get it in the car. There was another knock on the door, and she looked over. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Kristen Canton, the gifted teacher, popped her head inside the room. “Hello!” she called out, with a grin.
“Kristen!” Rose got up to greet her, calling her by her first name because she was only twenty-five, and preferred it. “How nice of you to come.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here yesterday.” Kristen gave her a warm hug, then whispered in her ear, “I’ve been upstairs.”
“Oh.” Rose released Kristen, and close-up, she could see that the pretty young teacher was a wreck. A normally bouncy redhead with warm brown eyes, a small, straight nose, a sprinkling of adorable freckles and an omnipresent grin, Kristen wore a forced smile today, and her eyes looked puffy under fresh makeup.
“Ms. Canton!” Melly shouted.
“Hey, girlfriend!” Kristen crossed to the bed. Her hair had been gathered into a messy ponytail, and her usually hip shirt-and-jeans combo had been replaced by a gray hoodie, which she had on with black yoga pants and flats. “How you doin’?”
“Good!”
“Great. I’m so happy to see you’re all right. I’d hug you but I’m a little sick.”
“There was a fire in the school, Ms. Canton. My mom found me.”
“What a great mom!” Kristen winked at Rose, then turned back to Melly. “Guess what? I have a get-well present for you.”
“What is it?”
“Check it out.” Kristen slipped a hand into her shoulder bag, pulled out a longish box with flowery gift wrap, and presented it with a flourish. “Ta-da!”
“Yay!” Melly tore off the gift wrap, which covered a forest green box. She flipped open the lid, and inside was a green velveteen channel that held a magic wand, of fake wood. “Mom, look! It’s a Hermione wand!”
“Honey, what do you say?” Rose smiled, touched.
“Thank you, Ms. Canton!” Melly took out the wand and started waving it around, letting the box and wrap fall to the bed. “Alohomora! I opened a lock, just like Hermione.”
“Good for you.”
“Thank you so much. I have Harry’s wand but not Hermione’s. Now I can put out fires.”
Kristen grinned. “Like in Deathly Hallows.”
Rose didn’t remember. “There’s a fire in Deathly Hallows? Remind me, Mel.”
“Hermione puts out the fire in Mundungus’s eyebrows after Harry sets him on fire by accident. Water squirts out the top of the wand.” Melly waved the wand around, almost hitting her metal IV pole. “I don’t know the incantation, though.”
“Me, neither,” Kristen said, frowning.
Rose smiled. “You haven’t memorized every spell in Harry Potter?”
“I’ll put out the fire in the school!” Melly looked over, then her face fell. “Did the school burn down, Ms. Canton?”
“No,” Kristen answered, growing serious. “The school is fine. Only the section with the cafeteria was damaged, and we’re going to fix it, as good as new.”
“Was it from a bomb?”
“No, there were no bombs.”
Rose looked over. “Kristen, do they know what caused the explosion?”
“They think it was some kind of gas leak and faulty electrical wiring. Mrs. Nuru says they rushed construction to open on time, and the punch list didn’t get done.” Kristen checked her watch and turned back to Melly. “Oops, sorry, it’s late and I’ve got to go, sweetie. See you at school.” Kristen gave Melly another hug. “Good-bye.”
“Bye, Ms. Canton.” Melly released her, waving the wand, and Kristen shot Rose a meaningful look.
“Rose, will you walk me out?”
“Sure.” Rose turned to Melly. She knew it had to be about Amanda and she wanted to know what was going on upstairs. “Honey, I’ll be right back. Ms. Canton and I will be outside the door. Call if you need me.”
“Okay, Mom. Thanks for my wand, Ms. Canton!”