“I’d prefer to keep you here for observation,” the doctor, who had been pouring over lab results for the last hour, said to Dad. “Perhaps run a few more tests.”
“No more tests.” Dad groaned. “I feel like a pincushion.”
The doctor looked at the chart one more time. “We can’t find anything wrong with you, which means we can’t keep you here if you want to go. But I don’t advise it.…”
Dad pulled the heart-rate monitor from his finger. “You heard the woman, Grace. They can’t keep me here.”
Under normal circumstances, I would have protested Dad doing anything against his doctor’s advice, but in this case I knew more about his condition than anyone else in the hospital would be able to determine.
Daniel steadied me in his arms as I stood—my body was still a bit unstable and weak from the power transfer—and I took my father’s hand. “Let’s go home,” I said, feeling more joy at that moment than I’d thought possible a few days ago.
“There’s one more thing I want you to do before we leave,” Dad said as we approached the elevators. He reached out and pushed the Up button instead of the Down. I knew immediately what it was that he wanted.
“Dad?” I looked up at him. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You can do it, Gracie. You and Daniel healed me, so why can’t you do the same for your mother?”
“I don’t even know if my powers would work on someone like Mom.” So far, I’d only known the power to work on physical injuries. I had no idea if it had any effect on mental illness. For some reason, that just felt different. “And, I mean, what if Mom is the way she is because that’s God’s will for her?”
“Then I imagine it won’t work if God doesn’t want it to.” Whenever Dad led a prayer circle for someone ill at the parish, he’d always qualify his pleadings to God for that person’s restoration of health with “if it be Thy will.” Dad gave me a reassuring smile as the elevator doors dinged open. “Why would God have granted you this power if he didn’t want you to use it?”
Daniel took my hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s worth a try, Grace.”
I looked between Daniel and my father, taking in the hope that brightened their eyes. If we could do this, it suddenly opened up so many possibilities. The things we could do … The people we could help…
“Okay,” I said. I stepped inside the elevator with them, knowing that from this moment on, my life might never be the same again.
THURSDAY EVENING, ABOUT TEN HOURS LATER
I awoke to a mixture of sounds and smells so familiar and pleasant, yet strange and out of place from my current life, that it made my head swim. Little stars danced in front of my eyes as I sat up. I recognized the coral color of my sheets as my eyes focused, and I sighed with relief, knowing I was in my own bed. At home. But I had no idea how I’d gotten here. Couldn’t remember anything except a vague recollection of getting into an elevator with my father and Daniel.
But where were they now?
A chorus of laughter sounded from the main floor of the house, answering my question.
I drew in a deep breath and sifted out the smells that permeated the air of my bedroom. Bacon. Eggs. Pancakes. And the sweet smell of maple syrup being heated over the stove.
Someone was cooking.
No one had cooked in this house since Mom had gone away.
More laughter drifted up the stairs and down the hall into my bedroom. There were too many voices mixed in the chorus for it to just be Daniel and my father. I breathed in again, and caught another now-familiar, underlying scent in the air—that of a dog who’s been lying out in the sun, mixed with the distinct scent of boy. There were werewolves in this house. And not just Daniel. Based on the smell, there were several just down the stairs.
Despite the effort it took just to keep my weak, aching body sitting upright, curiosity got the better of me. Not to mention the gnawing sensation in my stomach triggered by the smell of so much food. When was the last time I’d actually eaten? I dragged myself out of bed, slowly changed into fresh clothes, and tiptoed my way down the stairs—only to find the dining room bursting with people and food.
Daniel, my father, Charity, Baby James, Brent, Ryan, Zach, Slade, and even Talbot were gathered around, dishing up heaping portions from platters piled high with all varieties of breakfast foods that filled every square inch of the table.
“She’s up!” Dad said when he saw me in the entryway.
The crowd at the table cheered.
“Come eat.” Dad waved me into the room.
Both Daniel and Talbot stood when I entered, but it was Daniel who rushed over and threw his arms around my shoulders. He pecked a kiss on my cheek. “How are you feeling? You passed out at the hospital.”
“Tired but starving.” My stomach hadn’t stopped growling since I’d laid eyes on all that food.
“Sit. Eat.” Daniel indicated the empty seat between his spot and Charity. I watched as my sister passed a pitcher of orange juice to tattoo-covered Slade. Little Baby James squealed with delight as he pelted Talbot in the face with a handful of scrambled eggs. Talbot laughed, swatting egg off his baseball cap.
I pinched my arm. Hard. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do if you think you’re dreaming? My two worlds—the Urbat, and my human family—had finally collided. But instead of the resulting explosion I had expected if that were ever to happen, they were breaking bread together? “What on earth is going on?”
From behind me came the last voice I had expected to hear. “Breakfast for dinner.”
I whirled around to find my mother standing there, holding a tray of steaming French toast. My mouth popped open. How was she here?
“Your favorite,” she said. “I was hoping the smell would rouse you.” I noticed now that her fingers were still quite thin, but other than that, she looked so different from the vacant shell I’d seen when I’d visited her on Monday.
“Mom? But … but…” Fleeting memories trickled into my brain. Daniel and me standing over my mother as she lay in her hospital bed in the psych ward. The feeling of power rushing through my hands. Then I recalled passing out with fatigue onto the hard linoleum floor. “How long have I been asleep?”
“About ten hours,” Daniel said. “I’ve never seen anyone so drained. I don’t think you’re supposed heal two people in one day like that. So don’t go getting ideas that you can go around healing whole wards of people at the hospital at once.”