He held up one finger, signaling for me to wait, and jogged off with his oxygen tank in hand to grab our notebook. He sat himself down on the couch once he retrieved it and carefully wrote me a note on a fresh page before passing the notebook over to me.

I sat down next to him while I read his note.

Watch Spider-Man. Mac and cheese for lunch.

I laughed then went to get the first Spider-Man movie going and make us a bowl of popcorn. I’d been so busy with homework and midterms and fretting about college applications that I hadn’t spent as much time with Connor as I should’ve. I missed my little brother, even if we did live in the same house.

We spent the afternoon and most of the evening watching Spider-Man movies and then various Marvel-themed cartoons. In between the movies and cartoons, we got out the board games and played Monopoly and Trouble, both of which I let Connor win.

As promised, we had macaroni and cheese for lunch and leftovers for dinner, finishing off with a dessert of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

A pleasant warmth had curled up inside me seeing Connor so animated and excited for the first time in what seemed like ages. Moving to Colorado had been a more difficult adjustment for him than I think we could’ve imagined.

Connor was passed out on the couch by the time nine o’clock rolled around, which was my cue to turn the TV off and get him up to bed. It took some serious effort to get him up the stairs, changed into his pajamas, and tucked into bed.

“Love you, squirt,” I said, kissing his forehead. “See you in the morning.”

I woke to someone shaking me. I quickly sat up, shoving a mess of hair out of my eyes. Connor was standing beside my bed, one hand gripping the bed for support, his fingers curled into the blankets. He was not wearing his cannula, and there was no oxygen tank in sight. In the dim light of my lamp I could see there was a bluish tint creeping its way into his face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I demanded, all but throwing myself off the bed in my haste to get to him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I don’t know how he managed to do it, but he tapped both his index fingers together, his hands trembling, the sign for can’t, and motioned to his throat.

Connor couldn’t breathe.

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

There are moments in your life when time speeds up instead of slowing down.

I don’t know how I got Connor out to the car, how I remembered to grab the car keys and look up the address to the nearest hospital, or even how I got the car into gear and down the driveway.