The elevator’s doors wheezed open. I ran through what I knew of the layout in my head. It was like

Gran’s game of What’s On The Table, where I would have to remember and describe every object

with my back turned, or after she’d laid a fresh cloth over everything. Good training, she’d said.

Use that old meat twixt your ears, Dru. You mind me now.

My heart pounded in my ears. My head was heavy. I heard feathers brush the air as Gran’s owl took

off from the windowsill, and a moment of glassy, exquisite pain lanced through me. I didn’t dare

look back to see the owl.

Besides, the normal people here wouldn’t see it. That was what “different” meant. It’s just another

word for lonely.

Get to the stairs. Once in the stairwell you can get to the ground floor and get out. There’re fire exits, too. Then you can hole up at Gran’s house and—

“Hey! Kid!”

A man stepped out of the elevator. My heart leapt into my throat, started pounding. I didn’t realize I

was running until my slapping footfalls threatened to jar my head off my shoulders. A short, despairing sound burst out of me as the doctor yelled again.

The man from the elevator opened his arms. Tall, pale blond crew cut, his jeans creased and rumpled, his T-shirt stained with motor oil. He was always so clean and neat, it was a shock to see him

like this. I didn’t care. There were dark deep bruised circles under his eyes, blue like mine. Like

Mom’s. His were sharp winter blue, cool and considering, with lavender lines in the irises.

I didn’t wonder or care about that either. I ran right into his hug. I realized the motor oil was

splashed on his shirt to cover up something else, something reddish, and I could feel a bandage

around his ribs. It didn’t matter. I hugged him so hard he made a slight whoof! sound, and I didn’t

let go.

“Dru-girl.” One of his callused hands was on my hair, stroking the tangled flyaway curls. I hugged

him even harder.“I came as soon as I could. I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry. Shhhh, honeychild, angel baby. Everything’s all right.”

I realized I was making a low hurt sound, and that my nose was full of snot. All during the night I

hadn’t been able to cry, but now something broke loose in me and I began gushing. I tried to keep it

quiet, though. I sobbed into his dirty shirt.

The trio—nurse, doctor, social worker—arrived about ten seconds later and started throwing questions at him. He answered each one in his slow clear drawl, and I knew things were going to be