Our eyes lock. We stay right where we are until Monica bursts in, nearly shoving Mrs. Rockswell into the doorjamb with a quick apology.

"Is he awake?" Monica asks. I nod. At least, I think I do. My eyes haven't left Mrs. Rockswell's. Monica speaks low, soothing words to Adam. Something about it seems to snap his mom out of her daze.

"I thought only family were allowed in here," she says icily.

Monica only briefly glances up. "Well, yes, he's..." She glances at me, mouth open. Realization sets in. "...We made an exception, seeing as no one else was here for him."

I could hug her.

Mrs. Rockswell steps away from the door. Monica no longer seems to exist in her sphere of things to care about. "I want you to listen to me. Adam has never, ever had any sort of problems until he started hanging around you. Then he magically develops a habit for shouting and talking back to his mother? I don't know what garbage you're getting him involved with, but it's unacceptable. Please leave. Now."

The last thing in the world I can picture is soft-spoken Adam shouting, but it's a funny image. I might laugh if I didn't hate this woman so much. "He's always had these problems and you never paid attention. He's been unhappy for a long time, because you don't care about him, and his dad didn't care about him, then his dad died and you didn't even pretend to care except when he spilled jam on your carpets and ruined your stupid parties!"

Adam's grip on my hand tightens. I think. I can't be sure. I must be squeezing the blood out of his poor fingers.

"You have ten seconds to get out of here before I call security and have you thrown out," she says quietly, an underlying anger simmering beneath the surface. She looks ready to hit me. I wish she would. Then we would see who'd be getting thrown out of the hospital. I bet Monica would take my side.

But I don't want to put her in that position. I don't want Adam upset. He's already staring at me with wide, round, frightened eyes that still aren't quite all there, so I disentangle my hand from his after one last squeeze, and march for the door. Hoping Adam doesn't hate me. Hoping his mom doesn't make him regret that we saved his life.

If I ever go to their house again, I'm dumping jam all over her carpets.

CHAPTER 21

Adam's ok. Will call later, is all I text to Casper during the hour I'm sitting outside the animal shelter, waiting for it to open. As soon as the doors unlock, I push past a few others who were lingering and head straight for the kennels.

Today's dog is a fat Pit-bull named Roger. I scratch under his chin through the fence. He's so massive that when he rolls onto his back, he has a hard time getting up again. He's ugly and he drools a lot, but I want him to find a home. He'd make some family so happy if they'd only see how sweet he is.