Her eyes welled up with tears. “Oh, papito, I’m not going anywhere,” she said, holding him tight. It was exactly the kind of hug he needed.

She pulled away from him. “I’m here for you,” she said. “I don’t want you to think I’ll ever let you down.”

Héctor sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t want to let you down either,” he said.

“You never do,” said Abuela. “And look, even if you do . . . I’m not going to stop loving you, okay?”

He nodded and fell back into her arms. He stayed there until Papi came back in the room, letting them know that Abuela was being discharged.

Abuela must have given Papi a look, because he was gone as soon as he came. And Héctor was thankful that Abuela had made this moment last a little longer.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Mami dropped him back off at school right as the bell for lunch rang. Héctor fell into step with the other students as if he hadn’t been gone at all. A terrible thought nudged its way into his brain: Did anyone even notice that you weren’t here?

It didn’t make any sense to him. He had helped Juliana stand up to her principal; he had helped Sal orchestrate a return of their library. So . . . why didn’t he feel wonderful? Accomplished?

Happy?

Héctor wasn’t hungry, so he wandered over toward his art class to take advantage of Mrs. Caroline’s open-door policy. Unfortunately, when he got there, it swung outward and nearly smacked him in the face. He backed away quickly and—

Oh.

Great.

Mike scowled at Héctor. “What are you looking at, punk?”

How original, thought Héctor. He didn’t answer. He just looked down at what Mike had clutched to his chest.

It looked like a canvas.

Mike caught his gaze, then quickly shoved the canvas behind his back. “Mind your business, Hector!” he yelled, and then he darted off into the hallway. Héctor turned to watch him run away.

“Wonder what’s gotten into him.”

He jumped in his spot. He hadn’t even heard Mrs. Caroline come up behind him. She saw the confusion on Héctor’s face, then shook her head. “How are you this morning, Héctor? How is your heart?”

Mrs. Caroline had started asking this recently. She explained it by saying that asking someone how they were rarely inspired them to tell the truth. “And I want the truth!” she had said. “The truth is complicated, but the best art comes from a place of honesty.”

How was Héctor’s heart? He was wired after the morning he’d had and his last interaction with Mike, so he said the first thing that came to mind:

“Confused.”

“That’s an interesting answer,” she said. “What confuses you?”