It’s a Sunday, so the traffic on Route 6 is frustratingly thick. I sit in the cab of my truck with the rain pounding overhead like the sky is dumping the whole ocean on us. I inch along with the other cars over the Sagamore. Finally we pick up speed as two lanes become three and people spill off until it’s just me and the other idiots on Route 3 to Boston.
I remember the drive we took earlier this month to the doctor. The smell of the hospital waiting room. The moment I caught Sera sitting in a pool of light at the museum. The wayshe glowed around the edges. I can’t imagine her light going out. I can’t imagine living without her.
A car speeds onto the highway and cuts in front of me. I press on the brakes and slow down to avoid it, honking as long and loud as I can like I’m letting out a scream of rage. The driver doesn’t even have their lights on. My frantic heart calms as the car speeds away. I move out of the lane, not wanting to be behind them, and I slow to five miles under the speed limit.
“I’m coming, Sera. I’m coming. Just hold on for me.”
There’s less traffic moving toward the bright blob of light that is Boston. Through the rain, still unyielding, my wipers on high, my body tense. I flex my fingers against the wheel and crack my neck. I feel my heartbeat and imagine Sera’s breath on my ear with every pump of blood. Twenty minutes and I’ll be there. I know she’ll wait for me.
There’s a crack of thunder as a flash of lightning hits a building to my left. It lights up the sky, sending sparks into the rain. I spare it a glance, immediately thinking I’ll have to draw it for Sera, to show her the way the fire briefly touched each drop, like a nebula, spinning new stars into existence. I feel flooded with purpose.
It’s Sera I’m thinking about when there’s another flash right beside the road. It’s so close I have to squint as it fills the car with light.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sera
The light returns, and I fight it, pain in my chest, in my hands, in my head. So much pain I want to scream. I gasp awake, taking in air like I’ve never really had to breathe before. The pain is still there, and it sharpens me to awareness. So many wires run from my body to the machinery around me. The heavy fact of them ignoring my wishes makes tears spring to my eyes. This isn’t what I wanted. Why is this all here? The pain narrows into rage. I fumble for the sticky tabs on my shoulder first, even though it hurts to move, and I peel one off, then another.
The machinery rats me out, alerting everyone within a five-mile radius that I’m disturbing its watch, but it can fuck off, because I won’t be plugged in like a bad science fair project.
A nurse comes rushing in, my parents and Abbi right behind them. In my anger I narrow my gaze at them.
“How could you?” I mutter, my lips cracked and dry. “Howcould you? I don’t want to be plugged in to wait.” I’m on the verge of tears, the anger is so powerful, but I don’t care—let the anger take me, let it explode my fragile heart. I listen for EBE’s frantic scrabbling, but there’s an unfamiliar feeling, a long-ago-remembered sound in my chest instead.
“Sera, calm down,” Mom says, helping the nurse maneuver the electrodes back onto me, interrupting my objections. “You’ve had a transplant. You’re only one day out of surgery. Please.”
I hear the words, but they don’t really register because I’m listening instead to my body, that steady, strongthump-thump-thumpechoing in my chest. I place my fingers on my wrist, and even there, the beats are regular. I count them like I’ve been taught to, and they don’t skip dramatically. The beats keep a calm rhythm, going from a slightly high ninety beats per minute to a gentle, regular sixty-three.
“A transplant?” I look between the nurse and my parents, and my anger ebbs away. I look at Abbi’s red eyes. She nods and tears start streaming down her face. She wipes them away with her sleeve, and Dad pulls her into a hug at his side. The pain is still sharp, and I realize I should tell them. “Something hurts,” I admit. The nurse fusses and reviews things on my chart, then tells me she’s giving me some pain meds and they’ll probably make me sleepy, so I should rest. She gives my family a careful look as she backs out of the room.
“I’d wait until the doctor comes around to share anything else,” she says as she exits.
In the silence of her departure, I breathe through the pain and listen to that miraculous heartbeat. EBE is gone, butsomeone new is in her place. I want to know their name. I want to say thank you until my voice is raw. I’m going to live.
“Who?” I swallow. “Who saved me this time?”
“Rest, Sera,” Mom says, pulling a chair up next to me and offering me a sip of icy water. But there’s a nagging feeling in my gut that I can’t shake.
“Wait, how is this possible? I was only second on the list.”
Mom’s face pinches, and she chokes out her next words. “I’m so sorry, my love, but not now.”
I tense. “What? What happened? Please tell me.” Mom goes fuzzy as the drugs sweep away the pain and start to tug on my consciousness. “Please?” But she shakes her head and looks away. I turn to Abbi.
“Tell me,” I demand.
Abbi opens her mouth, and my parents protest. “No,” she tells them. “It’s not kinder to wait.” She steps closer, rests a hand on my shin. “There was a heart…”
And with her beautiful, smart, storytelling voice, my sister goes on to tell me the worst thing I’ve ever had to hear.
“I’m so sorry, Sera,” she says. “Luke was in an accident…the rain. He was close by. And he was a match.”
I lift my hands to my ears as she speaks, as if with the right pressure on my skull I could turn back time so I’ll never have to live with what I’ve lost.
A sob finally escapes me, and I turn onto my side. I curl my knees up to my newly cut-open chest and form a hollow around my center. I take a ragged breath in. The sound I’m hearing is the sound of Luke’s heart in my chest,ourheart, keeping me here, but only because he’s gone.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
