Page 145 of Wonderstruck

I told her I believed her and then watched her walk off toward the cafeteria. But those two words—normal, okay—they couldn’t have described my dad. Not now. Not ever.

The chime of the elevator travelled through the corridor, and a second later Daisy appeared, still wearing the oversized Christmas sweater she’d donned to sing carols in the children’s ward. Her curls were slightly frizzed, her eyes tired but warm and her skin finally getting some colour back.

“You okay?” she asked as she reached me. I could tell thenthat she’d used whatever time she’d had alone today to cry.

I shrugged before flattening some of the frizz in her hair.“Define okay.”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall beside me.“Are we going in?”

“Do you want to?”

She looked at the door for a long moment, biting her lip. “Ithink so. I mean… we should.”

“I don’t think anyone would blame us if we didn’t, Dais.”

I watched the war raging between the green oceans of her eyes, before she pulled her sleeves over her hands. “I’d regret not saying anything. Or ignoring him altogether.” Her eyes fell on me. “I’d regret treating him like he treated us.”

I shook my head. “You’re too pure for this world.”

Her tiny smile lit up the space between us. “I just want things to be okay. The world’s fucked up enough on its own without creating more problems to pollute it.” With a sigh, she stood upright, offering me her hand. “So, let’s do this.”

I exhaled. Daisy could talk me into pretty much anythingwith how much I trusted her. If she told me I’d be okay, then I would. Which was why I nodded, more to convince myself than her, and then took her hand. “Okay.”

We walked in together, and the room was almost unbearablyquiet. Unbearably blue, too. Dad was sitting up in bed, his face pale, but oddly alert. His eyes were sunken into his head, and his hands fidgeting with the edges of the hospital blanket.

And even though the only colour in him existed from theglow of the monitors, it was the most alive I’d seen him look in years.

That strange feeling stirred in my stomach, pulling me ineight different directions at once. Was I supposed to feel happy that he was alive? Disappointed? Could I even feel both and still be grateful that he wasn’t dead?

But why should I be grateful? The man had nearly drunkhimself to death, like Daisy and I weren’t enough reason to live his life.

I had to squeeze my eyes shut, counting to five before givingup and setting them back on him.

Dad looked up, his gaze landing on Daisy first. She steppedforward, her hand slipping from mine. “Hi, Dad.”

His face softened, and he smiled at her like she was the bestthing he’d ever seen. “Hey, Daisy.”

She moved closer, perching on the edge of his bed. Then hiseyes flicked to me. “Hi, Finn.”

I froze, unsure which emotion to let show first. Anger?Relief?

“Hi,” I said eventually, shrugging. “How are you feeling?” I sounded more sincere with Charles Laurent.

“Better.” He nodded sheepishly, his gaze dropping.

I chewed the inside of my lip, nodding back at him, myvoice low. “Amazing what not having eight different spirits running around your bloodstream will do—”

“Finn,” Daisy said sharply, spinning toward me with awarning glare.

“It’s fine,” Dad said, shaking his head and placing a hand onDaisy’s arm. “Besides, I think we can skip the small talk.” He let out a dry laugh, shrugging. “But I do feel better. I mean, I feel weird, like something’s missing, but… better.”

The beeping of the heart monitor filled the silence thatfollowed. Dad’s hand trembled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say, guys.”

Daisy glanced at me, then back at him. “Nothing needs to besaid now, Dad.”

I mumbled under my breath, “Or at all—”

“Finn, stop it!” Daisy snapped, her voice cracking.

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