Chapter 14: The Boy With the Shaved Head

"Go," Matt said. "I'll sit with her."

"You're off at seven-thirty."

"I'm a volunteer again. Go."

I took the elevator down seven floors with my heart in my mouth.

A woman at the information desk pointed past the gift shop without a word.

Caden was standing by the fish tank.

He had on a school polo and khaki shorts and a backpack so heavy it pulled his shoulders back.

His head had been shaved again. It was pink and new, with a nick above one ear.

He looked at me, and then at the floor.

"Are you Clara's mom?"

"You know I am."

"I saw you on TV," he said. "You said room nine."

"I did."

"Is she in room nine?"

"She is."

He hitched the backpack higher.

"Can I see her?"

"Kids can't go up. Her blood isn't strong enough yet. Even a cold could hurt her."

His face fell so fast I felt it in my own chest.

"How did you get here, Caden?"

"The bus. The number ten. I've done it with Grandma." He shrugged. "I had my soccer money."

"Does anyone know where you are?"

"School thinks I'm sick." He laughed, a short, wrong laugh for a nine-year-old. "School always thinks I'm sick."

"Are you hungry?"

He thought about lying. I watched him think about it.

"Yeah."

The cafeteria was in the basement.

I got him pancakes, bacon and a chocolate milk, and sat across from him at a table by the wall.

I didn't ask him anything.

He finished the pancakes and lined up the bacon strips on the tray.

"I brought her something," he said.

He unzipped the backpack.

It was full of school books, a pair of goalie gloves, and a plastic bag.

In the bag was a birthday candle, a new one, pink and white striped.

There was a card with it. He'd drawn a cake with a crown on it in marker.

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