At my mom's smal voice, I looked up. 'You told him.'
She nodded after a pause. 'I had to. He wanted to know
why I didn't want to be with him anymore. He wouldn't
believe me when I said it was someone new.'
'You didn't. Oh, Mom.' I shook my head. 'How could
you do that to him?'
She yanked her hand from mine with an unexpected
strength. 'Don't you judge me, Miss Smarty. You're not
exactly the best judge of how to make a relationship work,
are you?'
My jaw dropped, but I closed it with a click. 'What's that
got to do with anything? Leo loves you. You love him.'
got to do with anything? Leo loves you. You love him.'
She shrugged. 'I wasn't going to wait and see if he stil
loved me when I was sick and losing my hair. When I was
—' She snapped her mouth closed into a tight, fierce line,
her lips sewn shut against whatever it was she refused to
say.
'But you could've told me.' I sat back in the chair, a
milion miles between us. 'Unless you think I would've
stopped loving you, too.'
A single tear spiled out of each of her eyes and slid in twin
silver tracks over her cheeks. 'I didn't want you to worry,
baby, that's al. This was something I thought I could
manage on my own.'
Her eyelids fluttered closed again. 'Paige, I'm tired now.
Let me sleep.'
I wasn't close to being finished, but even I couldn't push
her right now. I stood and patted the bedcovers. 'I'm
going to see if I can talk to a doctor or something. I'l
come back tomorrow, okay?'
Her words stopped me in the doorway, a chil skittering
Her words stopped me in the doorway, a chil skittering
along my spine.
'Take care of him.'
I shuddered at the vision of eyeless children with torn and
bloody fingertips. I turned, but of course it was only my
mom in her bed, her eyes closed but her mouth moving.
'If anything happens to me, Paige, you need to take care
of Arty. Promise me.'
'I promise.' It was the only answer to give, realy, whether I thought I could honor it or not.
She smiled. Then I heard a familiar soft snoring and knew
she'd falen asleep. I left and went back to the nurses'
station, where a woman in a starched uniform told me
she'd page Dr. Frank and he'd meet me in the lounge when
he was available. I folowed her directions down the hal
and around the corner to find the lounge decorated in early
American Depression, worn couches in shades of beige
and brown, and abstract art in the same colors on wals in
the same tones. I felt like I'd walked into a giant box of
