Dead Girl Walking

believing me except Cola, who ordered me to leave instead of offering help. So I shook my head defiantly.

“I know your job is important,” I whispered. “But so is my life … what’s left of it anyway. I’m staying.”

Then be quiet.

Cola’s halo collar burst with golden light. The light was so bright I had to squint as I watched a change come over my dog. His dark fur shimmered, stretching into a silvery silk coat. His tail shortened, fluffed into silvery fur, and curled. The biggest change was his body, which shrunk smaller and smaller — until the animal springing onto the old man’s bed wasn’t a dog.

Cola had become a Siamese cat.

The old man’s withered face brightened with a huge toothy smile. He sat up in bed and reached out with a joyous cry: “Shadow!”

Cola-now-Shadow mewed and cuddled into the man’s bony tube-connected arms. The man’s face shone with golden happiness. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered. “You’re such a pretty girl.”

And then I finally got it. This wasn’t about me at all. No one was supposed to witness Cola in this mission except the old man. No wonder Cola had been so angry at me. I was intruding on something sacred and beautiful. Cola’s being at the hospital the same time as me was only a random coincidence.

But I needed help, too. Cola was just the dog (cat?) to get a message back to Grammy. Although why didn’t Grammy already know? She’d assured me she was always nearby, watching out. But where was she now when I needed her most?

I didn’t have the answers, but this was the wrong time for questions. Despite the glow of joy on this man’s face, he was dying and Cola was here to comfort him.

Sitting quietly in a plastic chair, I watched the old man stroke Cola’s fur. Purring filled the room like an angelic choir: sweet, pure, and loving. As Cola lapped the man’s wrinkled skin with kisses, his age lines faded and he glowed with youthful energy. Joyous music was sprinkled in the air, the soft melody of a flute and a ripple of harp strings.

Goose bumps rose up my arms. The air in the room sizzled with electricity. The old man lifted his gaze to stare at the ceiling, beyond anything my ordinary eyes could see. I blinked and thought I saw tiny orbs glowing like floating stars, bobbing and swirling toward the bed. When I blinked again, there was nothing. The old man grinned so wide I could see gaps in his yellowed teeth. Despite his appearance, he seemed younger and radiant. He lifted his tube-connected hand and waved, as if welcoming old friends.

I saw only a “cat” and the old man, yet suddenly the room felt crowded.

With emotions tangling heavy in my heart, and clouds of tears blurring my eyes, I turned away from the joyous, terrible, wonderful miracle.

Cola was right — I didn’t belong here. So I stood quietly and slipped out of the room.

In the hall, everything seemed ordinary again. Exhaustion washed over me as I sagged against the wall. I closed my eyes, grateful and humbled.

Cola’s job was truly important, and I didn’t blame him for growling. He must have been as surprised to see me as I was to see him. When he finished “comforting” the old man, I hoped he’d forgive me. I’d wait here for him, no matter how long it took.

With my eyes shut, I felt so relaxed that I could almost go to sleep. My anxiety faded, breaking apart and floating away. I thought of those glowing orbs and wondered if they were spirits greeting the old man — friends, family, and even pets. When I’d been with Grammy, I’d seen figures on the far side of the lake, waving. Were they my otherside family and friends, waiting for me?

This thought made me smile — until I heard the footsteps. My eyes shot open, and I found myself nose-to- badge with the same security guard I’d seen by the elevators.

“You aren’t allowed here,” he said.

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“Waiting in an unauthorized area,” the security guard (Karl, according to his badge) replied. “Nice girl like you should know better than to break rules.”

There was nothing “nice” about the way he was staring at me. Creepy was more like it. And there was a strange, prickly energy in the air, raising the hair on my skin. But before I could call Cola, the guard was reaching for me — with hands that blurred like mist, with gray fingernails.

Oh my god … Dark Lifer hands!

Gasping, I jumped away before he could touch me and took off running. I didn’t stop until I was through the lobby and outside. Then I sagged on a cement bench, hugging myself to calm down.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the guard. What was a Dark Lifer doing here? Had I attracted him? And he almost touched me! I had to tell Grammy. But I couldn’t perform my lucky chant without my rainbow bracelet. And it wasn’t safe to go back inside to get it from my real body. I ached with disappointment. Would Cola look for me when he finished his assignment? Or would he leave for his next assignment without letting Grammy know I was in trouble? I needed to get a message to him before he left the hospital. But I’d never get past that creepy Dark Lifer.

I might as well give up.

Yet I could imagine Alyce saying, “Ditch the self-pitying dramatics and just do what you have to.” She always cut to the reality of a situation, as if she viewed everything through a camera with a BS filter. Oh, how I missed her … and Dustin, and Mom and Dad and the triplets and even bitchy Aunt Suzanne. I’d lose them all forever if I just gave up.

I needed to either find Cola, or return to Room 311 and try to switch back into my real body. Who knew getting inside a hospital room would be so difficult? Chad hadn’t had any major problems sneaking into my bedroom. “Locks can’t keep me out,” he’d boasted. Did the same go for security guards and nurses?

Chad! Why hadn’t I thought of him sooner? He was my solution! All I had to do was to go back to the car and convince him to help. I wouldn’t give up until he came with me.

So I went back to Leah’s car — only Chad wasn’t waiting.

Unfortunately, a police officer was.

13

On the humiliating trip in the back seat of a police car, with doors that couldn’t be opened from inside, I found out I was being “returned” to Leah’s father.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Chad. Why hadn’t he waited for me? What happened to him? The Dark Lifer would have no reason to go after Chad. But Leah’s father would. If Mr. Montgomery reported the car as stolen, Chad could have been arrested. He was too good looking to survive long in prison with hardened criminals.

Stop thinking like Amber, I reminded myself. Leah and Chad lived in a world of privilege. Chadwick Huntington Junior would be bailed out before his pedicured feet touched down in a cell.

But I wasn’t so sure what would happen to me. From the officer’s hostile attitude, I knew I was in a world of trouble. Escaping from the locked bedroom and driving off with “my” boyfriend were offenses that even the most easygoing father wouldn’t take lightly. And Mr. Montgomery had a reputation of being the opposite of easygoing.

It was ironic, really, because as Amber I’d been eager to meet this music industry mogul. He was infamous for his wheelings and dealings at Stardust Studios, catapulting garage-band nobodies to overnight mega-stars. Sure, there were rumors that some of his deals were shady, like when Tay Renault didn’t show up for a concert and Allejandro, a rising Stardust client, took the spot and soared to stardom. Tay was later found wandering in the desert, confused and battered. Another rumor had to do with the hot metal band, Eco-Dead, dumping their studio and signing with Stardust. I knew better to believe gossip … still, I had an uneasy sense of foreboding.

I should probably call Mr. Montgomery “Dad” or “Father,” but this commanding man could be nothing but “Mister Montgomery” to me. How was his daughter expected to behave? Should I greet him with a hug or outrage? What would Leah do in this situation? Shout, beg forgiveness, or give her father the cold shoulder treatment? I had