Chapter 6: Under the Blanket

The door swung inward, and the smell came out first.

One of Cadence's friends in the hall said, "Oh God," and then she was gagging.

The balloons bobbed against the ceiling in the quiet.

Cadence was the first through the door.

She walked into my room and stopped at the foot of the bed.

I stood beside her and watched her look.

The curtains were drawn, and the lamp was off.

The thick blanket lay over me, up to my chin, the way I had pulled it the night before.

Dark stains had soaked through it along my right side.

The room was hot, and the blanket had been over me for twenty hours.

"Ewan?" Cadence said.

It was barely a word.

My mother came in behind her, with her hand already out.

"Ewan, get up. Stop this. You're scaring your girlfriend."

She grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it back.

Someone in the hall screamed.

My body lay on its side with its knees drawn up.

My right arm was folded under me.

The hand at the end of it hung from the wrist by a strip of skin, with the bone showing white through the dried blood.

My shirt was stuck to my ribs where the dark patch had spread.

I had never told anyone how bad it was.

I had said it was a sprain.

I had said I was fine.

I had worn long sleeves for three weeks, and I had changed the bandages in the bathroom with the fan on.

Nobody had asked to see.

My mother picked up my right hand.

It flopped in her fingers.

She made a sound I had never heard from her.

"Ewan," she said. "Ewan, honey, wake up."

She lifted the wrist closer to her face.

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