Chapter 12: What the Card Is For

For a second neither of us moved.

Then Neil put his hand over his mouth and turned away from the glass.

"Neil."

"Not now," he said through his fingers. "Your mother first. What do you need?"

I didn't know the rules of any of it yet.

I only knew that the thing in 214 was warm in my mother's bed.

If it was out on the porch at six, the lake would have it instead.

"Sit the desk," I said.

He sat.

I ran up the main stairs two at a time.

The door to 214 stood open.

The lamp was on, and the bed was made tight with hospital corners, and the room was empty.

Her slippers were gone, and so was her good blue sweater.

Next door in 213, the sheets on my own bed were thrown back.

There was a damp dent in my pillow the shape of a head.

I went up the tower stairs in the dark.

At the top the office door was shut, and a line of lamplight showed under it.

I turned the knob, and it was locked.

"Mom!"

"Your mother is with me, Miss Duquette," said Mr. Coe's voice, close on the other side of the door. "She's frightened of you."

"Meg?" said my mother's voice behind him, thin and scared. "Meg, please. I'm well. Let me be well."

I hit the door with the side of my fist, and my split knuckles left a smear on the white paint.

"What is the card for?" I said. "Tell me the truth. You owe me that much."

He was quiet for a moment.

When he spoke again, he sounded almost relieved.