“Mm-hmm,” I said, frowning at the ground as I recalled the strange feeling that had come over me during the chant.

  “Gavin is so into you,” she said. “And Danny … I think he’s coming around. Don’t you?”

  I had to admire her optimism. “Yeah, totally.”

  She giggled and did a little skip on the sidewalk, still linked with me.

  “Uh oh.” Naomi’s skip stuttered out to a brisk walk past a big, dark house. My eyes followed the creeping vines that had long ago choked the life from any grass that dared to grow in the front yard, to a porch that sagged under the weight of a century. Illuminated by the porch light, an old woman stood hunched in the doorway, petting a black cat nestled in her arms. Her messy gray hair rested on her thick shoulders. She simply watched us walk by, her cold eyes boring into us.

  I’d never seen her before, but I knew exactly who she was.

  Lilura Black.

  For a second, I wondered if Chase was home. My eyes darted between the upstairs windows, and I briefly wondered which one was his.

  “She’s so creepy,” Naomi whispered in my ear. “Let’s go.”

  I glanced back at Lilura once more before we ran down the street.

  Chapter Six

  Something vibrated against my leg. I dug my cell phone from the pocket of my jeans. The word “HOME” blinked at me from the tiny screen. Somehow, I knew he wasn’t calling just because I was out late. I answered. “Dad?”

  “Zadie,” he said, excitement in his voice. “It’s Mara. She’s awake!”

  I stopped walking. “She’s awake? Wh-when? How?”

  “We can talk about it when you get here. Where are you? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Just come home now. We need to get to the hospital.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Despite the cool night air, sweat started to form at my temples. “Um, I’m on my way.”

  “All right. I’ll see you soon.”

  I hung up the phone and stared at Naomi.

  “She’s out of the coma, isn’t she?” Naomi’s eyes were wide.

  I could only nod. “I have to go.”

  Naomi smiled and threw her arms around me. “I’m so happy for you, Zadie.” She took a step back and gave my arms a squeeze. “Call me later.”

  “I will.” I turned and started running. Mara was awake. She was really awake. My footsteps sounded so loud, I was sure I would wake the whole neighborhood. But I didn’t care. I picked up my pace, leaning into the curve of a corner.

  I collided with someone. Slightly off kilter from almost being knocked to the ground, it took a moment to gather my senses and see who it was.

  “You should really be more careful,” Chase said. He seemed so tall as he stood in front of me. Almost looming.

  “Oh. Chase. Hi.” I shook my head. “I have to go. To the hospital. Did you know my sister was in a coma? Did you even know I had a sister? Doesn’t matter. I’ve got to meet my dad and get to the hospital, because my sister woke up.” My head was spinning. I felt like I was talking frantically and not making any sense.

  I paused, bracing myself for heartening words or maybe a smile, but he merely narrowed his eyes at me. I was in a hurry, and his complete lack of sympathy annoyed me. He was being such a jerk. Even if he was a good-looking, arrogant jerk. Somehow I didn’t think many people called him on his rudeness. Screw that.

  “No need to be rude.” My voice was a little harsh.

  He simply stood there with his hands stuffed in his trench-coat pockets. Like I’d somehow managed to piss him off, even though I hadn’t seen him for a couple days.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked him.

  “I thought you were in a hurry.”

  “I am,” I said, walking backward on the sidewalk toward the street. “But usually when someone finds out that someone else’s family member has recovered from some kind of medical condition, that first someone is a little more polite.”

  I came to an abrupt stop when my butt collided with a trash bin. Nearly falling, I put my arms out to get my balance back, then straightened my shirt hem.

  “I’m fine, in case you’re wondering,” I said to Chase.

  “Seems to me you’re out of control.” He turned away from me and continued walking, his trench coat waving out behind him like a cape.

  I let out a sound of frustration, and then I ran home.

  My father was in the driveway, stuffing the duffle bag he’d put together for Mara into the back seat of the car. He waved at me, and I came to a stop beside him, gasping for breath.

  “That was fast,” he said. “I could have picked you up.”

  “No,” I said between heavy breaths and grabbed at the stitch in my side. “’S okay.”

  Two minutes and a brief text to Naomi later, we were racing to the hospital. I leaned forward in my seat the whole way, as if it would get us there faster. My seatbelt was off and my hand on the door handle before we even hit a parking space. We sprinted across the lot and into the lobby: every second counted. I’d had enough seconds without my sister. When we were finally led to Dr. Thompson’s office, I was sweat-soaked and a little nauseated, but excited.

  “Hey, Doc.” My father shook hands with the doctor. Neither of us sat down.

  Perhaps noticing our reluctance to move too far into the room, Dr. Thompson said, “I’ll take you down to Mara’s room in a moment. But first, I need to explain what happened.”

  “Okay, sure.” My father ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again.

  “We performed a few preliminary tests this morning, to make sure Mara would be ready to come out of the coma. We were aiming to begin reducing her Propofol dosage tomorrow. Everything was proceeding as expected. Then, around nine p.m., her vitals crashed.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  “We lost her heartbeat and had to defibrillate. And when we did that … well, she woke up.”

  Lost her heartbeat? Did he mean that, for a moment, Mara had … died? “Is that normal?” I asked. “Her waking up, I mean.” Not the dying part.

  Dr. Thompson scrubbed a hand over his chin. “With the dosage of drugs used to keep her under … no, she shouldn’t have been able to wake up.”

  “But she’s okay, right?” My father’s hands flexed at his sides, as if it was all he could do to keep himself from grabbing the doctor’s lab coat and giving him a good shake. “She’s going to be all right?”

  “She’s awake and aware. She still needs some help from the ventilator, but otherwise she’s fully functional.”

  I looked at my father, but he was still staring at the doctor, as if he was having trouble processing the news.

  “Dad, let’s go see her.”

  He turned to me and blinked.

  “Dad?”

  As if coming to his senses, he put a hand on my shoulder and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go. Doc?”

  “Of course.” We followed Dr. Thompson out of his office. I’d been to Mara’s room dozens of times, but I was glad to be led this time, because my thoughts were spinning. What if I had woken Mara up? Was that even possible? No. No, it wasn’t. I didn’t even know what words I’d said—for all I knew I could have been asking the universe for a double pepperoni pizza, extra anchovies. But something told me that wasn’t what had happened. I knew I had asked for my sister back.

  When we stepped into Mara’s room, I pushed down my thoughts. It was time to focus on what really mattered—Mara. Awake. Alive.

  She looked sleepy. She still had a breathing tube in her mouth, and the machine next to her beeped in a steady rhythm. Dr. Thompson pulled a small, hand-held light from his breast pocket and shone it in Mara’s eyes. She squinted away from him.

  “Hello, Mara,” he said. “Let me just check your dilation again.”

  Mara blinked as he flashed the light into her pupils, then she looked past the light. To me. I found it hard to breathe. Dad made a noise that almost sounded like a hiccup, drawing her attention away from me. As he lifted a hand to cover his mouth, tears spilled over his lashes. Clearing his throat, Dr. Thompson excused himself from the room.

  Mara slowly held a hand out to him. Her skin was pale, almost ashen, and her small frame was practically swallowed up by the bed. Dad flew forward and took her hand, his broad shoulders shaking as he let out a small cry. His robust form crumpled into the chair beside her bed, and he started apologizing to her, telling her he was sorry for what happened. Telling her how he had missed his baby girl, and how he didn’t want her to ever feel alone again. He said all these things as if it were all his fault, without knowing what had really happened.

  I had to get out of there.

  I stepped into the hallway and pressed my back against the wall. My eyes stung and my throat closed. I was about to totally lose control. I squeezed my eyes shut. One, breathe in. Two, breathe out. Mara was awake, never mind how she got into the coma, and never mind how she got out. Three, breathe in. Four, breathe out. She was awake and fine, and we’d be taking her home soon. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else …

  “How is she?”

  I opened my eyes. Dr. Klein, the resident psychiatrist, stood against the wall opposite me. She toyed with a button on her blazer, ebony fingers wrapping around gold. She was the last person I wanted to deal with.

  “She’s awake,” I said simply. “I haven’t spoken with her yet.”

  “She isn’t yet able to talk. But the doctors will keep her here for observation, and I’d like to schedule some time with her.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Dr. Klein looked at her watch. “I have somewhere to be. I thought you might want to pass the message along to your father.”

  I wasn’t normally rude to adults, but Dr. Klein had caught me in an off moment. “Don’t you have a secretary? Or a phone?”

  “Actually, I would also like to schedule some time with you.”

  I was sure she wanted to dig some family secrets out of me, but I kept a straight face. “What for?”

  “Let’s save those questions for the next time we meet.” She checked her watch again. “I really do have to go. Be sure to tell your father.”

  I stood there for a moment, staring after her as she walked down the hall.

  When I turned to go back into Mara’s room, my father stepped out. His eyes were red and his cheeks streaked with tears. I felt a hard pinch in my stomach, looking at him like this.

  “She seems okay,” he said. “I mean, she can’t say anything because of that thing in her throat, but she doesn’t seem upset or …” His breath shuddered and his eyes dropped to his hands.

  I rested my hand on his arm. He didn’t have to finish his thought; I knew what he was thinking. That Mara didn’t seem depressed. Suicidal. Angry at him for not noticing the signs. “That’s good, Dad.”

  Without looking at me, he put his hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. “You should talk to her.”

  “Okay. You look like you could do with a splash of cold water or something.”

  He dragged his hands over his face, eyes blinking as if trying to clear the redness from them. “Yeah, I might do that.”

  I took a deep breath and went into Mara’s room, telling myself with each step that I was in control. That my heart wasn’t racing, that my throat felt fine, that my eyes weren’t stinging. I was fine.

  I stopped next to the bed. Mara gazed at the ceiling, her strawberry blonde hair fanning out over her pillow. She blinked a few times, but she didn’t look at me.

  “Hey, Mara.”

  She still stared at the ceiling. Why wouldn’t she look at me? I sank into the chair beside the bed. There were so many things I thought I’d never have the chance to say to her: Did you try to kill yourself? Are you sick, like Mom? Did you try to tell me, and I just didn’t see it?

  Now that I had the chance to say all these things, I couldn’t form the words. My throat tightened, and I twisted a corner of her bedsheet between my fingers.

  “I missed you,” I said simply.

  She turned her head then, and her eyes bore into me. I thought she would burn a hole through my head. For a moment, I wasn’t looking at my sister. I didn’t know who she was. A chill washed over me as she lifted her hand to point one long, pale finger at me.

  I swallowed. “What?”

  Mara lowered her hand, but continued to stare.

  I knew that look. It was the same accusing glare she’d given me when we were young. When I brought the frogs.

  “Did I … did I do something?”

  She nodded, then faced the ceiling again and closed her eyes. My heart stung, as if something was piercing it. Something sharp and jagged and rusted. Did she mean that I did this? That I actually got her out of the coma? Brought her back to life? The thought was frightening. But why was she angry with me?

  Maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe she was just livid because I hadn’t been there for her like I should have been. Because I’d let her down.

  I stood. My chest felt tight. Tears burned my cheeks as I backed out of the room and ran down the hall.

  Chapter Seven

  I was supposed to be writing up research notes on Henry David Thoreau. Instead, half of my mind was replaying the look Mara had given me in the hospital, and the other half was attempting to adjust to a frantic school week. I couldn’t believe how fast word of Mara’s recovery had traveled. By third period Monday morning, four teachers had pulled me aside to ask about my sister. People started to whisper and give me looks in the hall. I got into the habit of keeping my head down between classes, and I avoided the cafeteria altogether.

  I glanced up from my notes when Naomi’s phone chimed. The world outside the library’s wall of windows was dark, much darker than I expected it to be. I had been hoping to be home in time to cook dinner for Dad. Apparently, that wasn’t happening. Naomi and I had been using the public library instead of the school library so we could finish our project without nosey students giving me looks. We usually left before dark. However, with our report due the next day, we had decided to stay until we finished.

  “Oh my God.” Naomi’s eyes were wide. “We’re all set.”

  “All set for what?”

  “Our double date.” She held the phone up so I could read the display. “Friday. Eight o’clock. Xavier’s.”

  “Friday? As in tomorrow?”

  “Too soon for you?” Naomi tucked her phone away.

  “I … No, it’s fine. I mean, it’s good. Danny sent you that text?”

  “No, Gavin did. I cornered them outside of their last class and told them to decide where we’re going. Danny just sort of stood there like a deer caught in headlights. What’s with him, anyway?”

  I shrugged and tapped my pen on my notebook. “I don’t know. Maybe you intimidate him.”

  She nodded. “I do have that effect on people.”

  I clicked my pen against the tabletop. “What did Gavin say about Mara waking up? I mean, did he mention me doing the spell?”

  “He said it was so cool and that you have an extraordinary gift of getting positive thinking to work.”

  “So he didn’t think it was really … magic?” I bit my lip.

  Naomi laughed. “I’m sure he didn’t. He’s not a total weirdo. I’m sure he and Danny were just playing along at the house, anyway. He probably figured that Mara waking up was coincidental. Doesn’t matter, right? We made a deal, and now they have to pay the piper.” She winked at me. I smiled, despite the disappointing feeling that stabbed me at the thought that Gavin might not really believe in magic.

  “So we have a date then.” I dropped my pen and wrapped my arms around my middle. A real date. With Gavin. He actually wanted to spend time with me. I bit my lip. “Naomi, remember when Emily confronted me in the hall about Gavin?”

  She scoffed and shifted in her seat. “Yeah. What a skank.”

  I fiddled with the corner of my notebook paper. “Why would Gavin be interested in me if he’s got a girl like Emily interested?”

  “Um, because you’re awesome and gorgeous, and she’s a skank.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “What I mean is, isn’t it a weird match? Emily usually dates jocks.”

  “Well, Gavin used to run track. That’s sort of athletic, right?”

  I leaned forward on the desk. “He did?”

  “His freshman year. But he quit. Actually he ditched school for like a month. When he came back he was different. Grew his hair out, started wearing all black.”

  “Why the change?”

  Naomi shrugged.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I asked.

  “Thought you knew.” Naomi’s stomach gurgled, and she grabbed it. “God, I’m starving. You about ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I’m done.”

  Naomi and I packed up our supplies and headed outside. A rush of cold air met us as we stepped onto the sidewalk, and I hurried to pull the zipper of my hoodie closed.

  “Call me later so we can figure out what we’re going to wear,” Naomi said.

  “Okay, now I’m freaking out on a totally new level.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re hot. He’ll love you, no matter what you’re wearing.”

  My cell phone interrupted our goodbyes, so I waved at Naomi as she headed across the parking lot and dug the cell from my pocket. When I saw my father’s number, my heart sped up.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Guess who I brought home.”

  I froze in place halfway across the lot. “No way!”

  “Yep.”

  “She’s okay?”

  “Doctor gave her the all clear. Thought we could all have dinner together to celebrate. You gonna be long?”

  “No. Just finished up at the library. I’m on my way.”

  “See ya then, kiddo.”

  I tucked my phone back in my pocket and grabbed a tighter hold of my backpack. Mara was home.

  I had taken a mere two steps across the street when headlights blinded me. The car screeched to a stop, making my breath hitch. I should have kept moving, but my body was frozen in place. I stared at the hood of the car. Another four inches and it would have hit me. Over the purr of the engine, my pulse thrummed in my ears. Finally my brain convinced my legs to move. I shielded my eyes from the headlights as I walked away from the car.