Now, I am the one lost and weeping. And she is the steady presence at my side stroking my hair back from my face.

Tethering me to the here and now.

I guess my instincts were wrong about her, too.

I sleep. I don’t know for how long. When I wake, the room is dark, and my mother is not in bed. She’s in a chair pulled right up to my side. I can see an empty cup of coffee and an untouched tray of what looks like my hospital dinner on the table next to my bed.

Mom has notes on the back of a comment card. Surgeon names? I glance at my arm and test it out. Sore, but functional, so I don’t think I need surgery. I glance at the names again.

“They’re counselors,” she says. Her eyes are bright, and she’s looking right at me. “Are you hungry?”

I shake my head and pick at the sleeve of my hospital gown. There’s a thick bandage underneath, so no hope of seeing the damage unless I want to start unwrapping all the gauze.

“Twenty-three stitches,” she says. “It’ll scar, but they say it’s fairly clean. No tendon damage, which is good.”

“Do you know what happened?” I ask, feeling teary.

“I know you’ve been through hell. The police are going to need an official statement later, but for now, you just sit.” She squeezes my good hand and looks at me. “You’re safe, Mira. This is over.”

She means he’s over. That Josh is dead and no threat to me. But she didn’t need to tell me that. I already knew. I expect the tears that come, but the shame is a surprise.

“I sat right next to him all those hours,” I say. “I thought he was a nice guy.”

“I’m sure he tried very hard to convince you he was,” Mom says. There’s the barest shade of fury behind her expression but she is holding it in. Controlling her face.

I shake my head. “My instincts were wrong. My instinct was to stay close to him. To trust him. I can’t trust myself.”

“Yes, you can,” she says. “You can absolutely trust yourself.”

“I just wanted to get home to you. With Phoebe and Daniel…I thought you would be…” I break off with a cry. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighs. “Maybe this is where my instincts were wrong.”

She peels the foil lid off my cherry Jell-O and slides it over to me with a plastic spoon. I don’t feel hungry but I take a bite all the same.