Should I try to find my brother? Maybe he’ll know what to do.
I glance down at my feet and realize I’m only wearing my white sandal. Oh no—Dad still has my purple one! They’re my only pair of shoes.
I stand on my tiptoes and crane my neck to peek over the railing. The wind lifts my hair, and for a moment, I feel like I’m flying. Neat! But where would I land? There’s only water, and I’m pretty sure I can’t land on a wave.
Salty tears sting my cheeks and burn my eyes.
And I really need to pee.
“Psst… Noah.”
I spin around so fast I almost lose my balance. Plus, I stub my toe. I need to get my purple sandal back.
The girl with the strange eyes is standing in front of me. She presses her fingers to her lips.
“Shh…” she whispers, reaching for my hand.
“What’s your name?” I whisper back, hoping she’s nice. She’s kind of pretty—for a girl—but her eyes are scary. They glow a little, like something out of a video game.
“My name is America,” she says softly, brushing the hair out of my face. “But you can call me Erica. Or Meera if you’d prefer. Mimi is fine too.”
A shiver races up my spine as I follow her deeper into the large vessel. Even though there’s no wind in the hallway, I can’t stop shivering.
Using my fingers, I quietly count all of her names—four. But I think I’ll call her Erica. America is too confusing, and now I’ve forgotten the other two. Why does she have so many names? I only have one.
“I thought I was going to America,” I say, hobbling alongside her. “I’m scared,” I finally confess, squeezing her hand and trying not to trip.
“I know, baby,” she says gently, opening a door and pulling me inside.
There’s only one bed in the room, and it’s small. I was hoping to share a bed with my brother. I really want to sleep with Alex.
A softclickbehind me sends a chill down my arms. I fold them over my chest.
Erica kneels down by the door and looks straight into my eyes. Her hands glide gently down my chilly arms.
“Listen carefully, Noah,” she says in a quiet, serious voice. “I’m going to teach you how to hide in the rain.”
I pee my pants.
27
ALEX
I rollmy shoulders as Elijah and I are led down a dim corridor in New York Presbyterian. It’s eerily quiet for a city that never sleeps, and the sharp mix of disinfectant and stale vomit makes my stomach churn. We round a corner and stop in front of a door with a small square window; two empty chairs are stationed outside like guards.
Anxious for a glimpse inside, we lean in at the same time and bump heads. I pull back with a wince, but Elijah stays staring straight ahead. Gabriel is at Noah’s bedside, forehead resting on his chest. His shiny hair fans out like paper across the blanket.
“Oh Jesus,” Elijah mutters. “He doesn’t look good.”
I nudge him. “How can you even see?” I stretch my neck, trying to get an angle. “Gabriel is in the way.”
He finally looks at me. “I wasn’t talking about Noah.”
“Oh.”
I glance back into the room, my focus shifting to Gabriel. His broad shoulders tremble against Noah’s still form—he’s crying, I know it. That mess of hair hides Noah from view.
“I guess I should go in.”
