“I told him to come,” Markov said. “I gave him the message.”
Her dad stepped up beside Markov, taller in his skates, huge in his pads, fierce with his bruised and broken face. The edges of Ana’s vision blurred, and something white and hot burned in her belly.
“It’s not your fault,” she said again, straight to Markov. “It’s his. This is all his fault. I don’t know why I ever thought he could fix anything. He won’t even walk down the hall when he knows we’re right there.” She snapped her head just enough to stare her dad in the face.
“I couldn’t leave . . .” he started.
“All you do is leave!” Ana said. “You left us, you left Boston, and now you even left Philadelphia.”
“Ana,” he said. “I’m here now. I’ll come with you.”
Ana stepped between her dad and Mikey. “No. You won’t.” She brushed the tears from her eyes. “I was proud of you for a second tonight. I hate myself for it now, but I was proud of you. You won the game. What more could you want?”
They both knew the answer to that. His family. He could want his family. He looked away, and Ana knew he didn’t want it quite enough.
“Stay and celebrate with your team,” she said. “Don’t you dare come with us.”
Ana raced to the tunnel where the stretcher was being loaded, grateful that Katie had stayed with Mikey every second. Katie climbed in the ambulance, then reached out and pulled Ana up.
“Excuse me, miss, but I’ll need to . . .”
“We’re family,” Katie said, and the way she said it, the driver could only nod. They’d barely squatted down when the doors slammed shut and the siren started.
A paramedic pointed at the farthest corner from Mikey as the ambulance rumbled forward. “We’ve got to work, which means you’ve got to stay out of the way. You can speak, quietly and calmly. If he can hear you, it might help.”
But Ana had no clue what to say. Would Mikey even hear her, with the oxygen mask over his face and the brace around his neck? She wished more than anything she could hold his hand, but there were straps around his arms, binding him to the stretcher. Just then, she felt Katie’s warm hand in hers. Almost like she’d heard the wish and knew the next best thing.
The two paramedics spoke in clipped, exact voices, fixing a tight band around Mikey’s arm and a silver needle into his forearm. After a minute, Mikey seemed to move.
No, he definitely moved. Under the mask, he licked his lips.
Ana scrambled to Mikey’s side, trying to make herself as small as possible so she wouldn’t be in the way. So she wouldn’t have to leave him. She knew he would hate this, but he had to wake up.
“Hey, buddy. Are you okay?”
The paramedic took off the oxygen mask, and Mikey coughed, sad and weak. “I think I’m not.”
Ana nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. But you will be.”
“Did I get it?”
“Get what?”
“The puck. We only have one, Ana. That’s why it only works sometimes, for small wishes. A pair would be better. When he didn’t come down, I knew he’d score a goal so I could have a pair.” He looked straight into Ana’s eyes. “Did I get it? Does it have the M scratches?”
“Oh, Mikey.” This was all Ana’s fault. But if she told him the truth about the puck now, it’d be like telling him he’d done this crazy brave thing and gotten himself in this mess for nothing. “We couldn’t bring it right away, but we’ll get it.”
“Are we going home?” he asked.
If anybody said the word “hospital,” Mikey was bound to freak out, but Ana was a little worried he hadn’t realized he was in an ambulance.
“We can’t go home yet,” Ana admitted. “We’ve got to fix you up a little first.”
One of the paramedics pushed her fingers into Mikey’s belly. “It’s rigid,” she said. “He’s got a bleed.”
Ana was actually surprised by how little blood she could see on Mikey—mostly scrapes and scratches on his face, so small she hadn’t seen them before, and nothing like when Katie had fallen. But the way the paramedics looked at each other, she knew this was bad news.
“Call ahead and tell them he’ll need surgery.”
That did it. A switch flipped in Mikey, and he looked around like a wild animal.
“NO!” he begged. “No surgery! I’ll die if they cut me open!” He strained against the straps that held him down. “What are you doing to me? Where’s the door? Let me out of here!”
The paramedics kept shouting numbers at each other, and Ana squeezed his hand. But Mikey had started to sweat, and an alarm blared from one of the machines.
“His blood pressure’s way too low.” The woman with the ice-blue eyes turned to the driver as her partner attached a tube to the needle in Mikey’s hand. “Seriously, can’t we go any faster?”
“Three minutes,” said the driver.
“NO!” Mikey screamed again. But his voice was already weaker, and he seemed to drift away for a long moment before he remembered his fight. “Let me out! No hospital. No surgery. My mom’s not here and you can’t do anything if I say no.”
Ana wasn’t sure if that was true, but she worried it could be. She felt Katie’s hand in hers again, this time pulling her away from her brother.
“He needs me,” Ana pleaded.
“He does,” Katie agreed. “But he might need me too, just for a minute.” She squeezed herself into the spot where Ana had been and softly placed her hands on the sides of Mikey’s face.
“Hey,” she said, steady as the snowfall. “I need to tell you a secret.”
Katie
Chapter 22
THE AMBULANCE WAILED and the stinging scent of something chemical snuck inside Katie with every breath.
“Mikey,” she said, pushing her own fears and memories aside. “You don’t have to have surgery.”
The paramedics tried to argue, but Katie shook her head. Finally, Mikey settled down enough to look right at Katie. “I don’t have to?”
“You get to choose.” That was important. Mikey needed to know it was his life, his choice. “But can I tell you another secret?”
Mikey nodded, and Katie leaned closer. It wasn’t hard at all to tell her secrets now.
“Surgery makes you stronger.”
Mikey’s eyes filled with tears. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Katie pulled down the collar of her shirt, just far enough for Mikey to see the bumpy pink scar. “I had surgery when I was little. Huge surgery. They gave me a new heart.”
“Almost there,” called the driver.
Mikey clutched Katie’s hand a little tighter. “Were you scared?”
“I was so little I didn’t even know it was happening. But if I had, I bet I wouldn’t have been as brave as you.”
Mikey loosened his grip, just a little. “It made you stronger? Like a superpower?” The words were a struggle now, and just breathing seemed to be taking his strength.
Katie leaned closer. “Shhh, Mikey. I told you, it’s a secret. But it made me way stronger than I’d ever been. So yeah, kind of like a superpower. You go to sleep your regular self, and you wake up different. It won’t feel super right away, but it’ll come.”
As the ambulance made a quick turn, Mikey let go.
“Okay,” he said, in a strange, scratchy voice. “Okay.”
Katie smiled at him. “You can do this. And you can show me your scar when it’s all done.”
The ambulance jerked to a stop, and a whole crew was waiting when the doors opened.
“If you get scared, just think how strong you’ll be,” she said.
As he slid away into the night, Katie thought she heard Mikey say, “Strong like you.” She caught hold of the words, wanting him to be right for both their sakes.
Katie followed Ana into a waiting room, where a nurse let them call their families and promised that Mikey was in great hands. Once they were alone with the quiet tick of the yellowed clock above them,
Katie couldn’t help but remember how broken she’d felt only a few hours ago. Like she could just close her eyes and dissolve into the winter air.
But now she felt the seams and cracks beginning to patch together again. She fingered the friendship bracelet in her pocket, remembering how many of those cracks had formed between her and Ana. Of course she’d forgiven Ana for the watch, but had Ana forgiven her for everything else? Or had she just needed her help?
Ana stared straight ahead. “You told him he’d have a superpower.”
Had she? Katie buried her head in her hands. How could she have lied again already? Of course Ana had heard everything in the ambulance.
Ana sniffled. “I think you’re the one with the superpower.”
Katie was too surprised to answer. All her life, she’d been the weak one, the slow one, the one who could barely breathe. Now that they were safe, she was totally exhausted. That sure didn’t seem like somebody who had superpowers.
Except that when Katie looked at all she’d been through—the cold, the running, the impossible situations—she saw a different picture of herself. She’d made it through all that, and she was fine. Maybe better than fine. She’d made a difference to Mikey.
Ana paced in front of her. “What if you hadn’t gotten us on the ambulance and he’d been in there alone? What if you hadn’t been there to tell him it would be okay, and he’d gone into surgery thinking he was going to die?”
Katie patted the empty chair next to her so Ana would know she could sit down. “I’m glad I could help. Everything really is going to be okay.” It felt like the truth too—not only for Mikey, but for all of them.
Then there were Katie’s parents, dashing through the doors, gazes darting around the room until they landed on her. They’d brought Babushka and Ana’s mom, too, looking less like a ghost than before. Everyone hugged and cried like they were all part of the same family. They all told each other the pieces of the story they knew.
Ana’s mom pulled Katie close. “Thank you for being there for them.” The soft tap of a teardrop landed on Katie’s head. “Not just today.” Katie hugged her back, thinking again how much smaller Ana’s mom felt than her own mother.
“You have two good kids,” Katie said. “You’re a lucky family.”
But so are we, she thought as she looked toward her own parents, clutching each other with tears in their eyes.
A doctor called Ana’s mom away, and Katie’s parents offered to help Babushka fill out paperwork, so Ana and Katie were left alone again.
Ana slumped in her chair. “I know I’m not the greatest planner, but I never thought it would all turn out like this. Holy flip, what a mess.”
“I’m sorry he didn’t come,” Katie said.
Ana rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry I thought he would.” She paused. “No, that’s not true. I’m glad I saw him. He’s my dad. He’s half the reason I’m here, you know?”
Katie knew just what it felt like to long to see the people who’d given you life. She swallowed her own ache and followed Ana’s gaze to where Ana’s mom talked with the doctor in the corner.
“She’s the other half,” Katie said, and Ana nodded. Katie remembered how sad and alone she’d been earlier tonight. Was that how Ana’s mom had felt all these months?
Then Katie wondered if Ana was right—if she really did know just the right words to say sometimes. The words inside her now felt heavy and important.
“Your mom needs you to need her right now. I know you’re tough, but she’ll just keep floating farther away unless she can feel that. You should tell her.”
Ana nodded. “We do need her. I was afraid to tell her, I guess. But I will. I know it won’t get better if we don’t say the things we’re afraid of saying.”
Katie thought of the things she’d been afraid to say ever since she met Ana. She pulled her hand back and tugged down the collar of her shirt again. When she showed the scar to Ana, it did seem like something that made her stronger. “I’ve been keeping other secrets, but I’m ready to tell you now. I’m sorry I lied before.”
Then Katie told Ana everything about her heart and her history. They compared the two matching pocket watches as Babushka brought them steaming cider from the cafeteria.
“And where did your watch come from?” Babushka asked.
Katie thought of all the possible answers to that question. From her attic. From Russia, apparently. But how did it get from one spot to the other? And what was the story behind the rest of the things in the box? There was a hollow place inside Katie as she wondered where the other treasures might be now.
“I’m not sure where my watch came from,” she admitted.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Ana. “Well, I mean, it does, but . . .” She bit her lip. “It does matter. And I’m sorry I said I don’t care if you’re adopted. If you want me to care, I’ll care.”
Katie thought about that for a minute. “Thanks,” she said. “I don’t care that your dad left, unless you want me to.”
Babushka reached out and put her hand to Ana’s hair.
“I know,” Ana said. “It’s still a mess. It’s always a mess.”
Babushka pulled an old wooden comb from her bag and pointed it at the ground before her. Katie expected Ana to argue, but she just pulled the elastic from her ponytail and knelt down. “Could you do a French braid?”
Babushka huffed. “I will do a Russian braid.” She nodded toward Katie. “This girl has a strong heart,” she said. “But she needs to learn more of her country, like you.”
One pull at a time, Babushka worked through all the knots until the comb slid through it, smooth and straight. Babushka hummed something soft and almost familiar as she braided, and by the time she’d finished, Ana could barely keep her eyes open.
“Good girl,” Babushka said, guiding Ana’s head to her lap. “It was a brave quest, but you rest now. The morning is wiser than the evening.”
Ana’s whole body seemed to relax, and she finally let her eyes close as Babushka stroked her hair. It looked so perfect and comfortable that it made Katie long for her mother. She looked toward the corner where her parents sat, almost dozing themselves.
“Mom,” she said. “I’m ready to go home now.”
Katie’s family walked together to the parking lot. “You did a good thing tonight,” said her mom as they buckled up, and Katie’s heart swelled.
But then.
“You did a good thing, but a dangerous thing. You can’t ever put yourself at risk like that again.” She glanced at Katie in the rearview mirror, like she couldn’t even bear to really look at her daughter. “Now let’s get you home and in bed.”
No. That was the last thing she needed. She’d been in bed too much since Monday, and she didn’t ever want to feel that way again.
Katie reached forward and touched her mom’s elbow before she could turn the key.
“I need to tell you something.” Now her mom twisted to face her, and Katie took a deep breath. She touched her fingers to the scar on her chest, hoping it would give her courage too.
“I’ve been so lonely and sad all week, and in the end, Ana was the one who was there for me. So I had to be there for her.” Before her mom could argue, Katie kept going.
“You’re right, though. I promise I won’t sneak away like that again. But you’re right about something else too: I did something good tonight. I made a difference for Mikey and Ana. For their whole family.” She felt the truth of those words melting a hard place inside her. “Ana thought it was like a superpower. And you guys have always made me feel like there are super things about me, but it’s the first time I’ve ever felt the power part. Like there’s something strong inside me, and I really can do great things.”
Katie’s dad reached back and put a hand on her knee. “Of course you can.” He looked to Katie’s mom. “Can’t she?”
“It scares me,” she said in a small voice.
Katie tucked her hands underneath her legs. “It scares me t
oo. I think it’s supposed to.”
“But what if we lost you?”
“You could,” Katie admitted. “And I could lose you. But we still have to use our superpowers, don’t we?”
They spent the rest of the ride home in a thoughtful sort of quiet. For the first time, Katie felt like her parents had truly listened. Like her words had power too.
Katie
Chapter 23
THE VERY NEXT night was Christmas Eve, and Katie had barely seen her mom all day. Instead of spending hours in the kitchen like she usually did on holidays, her mom had shut herself in her little study again.
“She’s finishing up one last project,” her father explained. “She’s been working like this all week, hasn’t she?” He glanced around at the cluttered counters, the bare stovetop, the empty oven. “How about hamburgers and root beer floats for dinner?”
Katie almost laughed. “For Christmas Eve?”
“Why not?” he asked, and Katie couldn’t think of a single reason.
Katie lined up the fixings while her dad grilled, and her mom hugged them both close when she saw what they’d done. “What a wonderful new tradition,” she said, and they all agreed.
After dinner, it was time to open the last link of the Thankful Chains. Katie’s parents went first, both of them thankful for their little family. When Katie stood up to take down her last paper link, she stopped, knowing the time had finally come to read the words she’d written at Thanksgiving. She didn’t want to hurt her parents, but this was something she had to say. Even if it made her belly flutter.
“I wrote something different this year,” she said. “I hope it’s okay.”
Her parents smiled and nodded at her, and Katie ripped the link open and read the words, as if she couldn’t be blamed for them if she were just reciting what was on the paper.
“I’m thankful for my birth parents.”
Tears flooded her eyes, and when she looked up, her mom was crying too. Katie dropped the paper and ran to her parents, desperate to fix it before she ruined everything. She searched her mind for the right thing to say, the best way to take it back. She buried her head in her mom’s shoulder, but soon she felt a gentle nudge, and she lifted her chin enough to look up.
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