Page 68 of Wish For Me

None of it matters.

Only Leif.

CHAPTER21

Noelle

Iwake up to the sound of rustling next to me. I shoot upright, but it’s only the custodial staff, emptying the bin next to the bed. “Sorry,” the woman says.

Her eyes are so kind, I instantly tear up. “It’s fine. Thank you for your help.” She works Tuesday through Saturday. Her name is Jojo.

We’ve been here long enough that I know her name.

Jojo pauses, the garbage bag in hand. Behind her, Leif is still asleep, his bruises faded to pale yellow. His parents sleep too, on the cots on the far wall.

“Isn’t it time for your walk, Noelle?” Jojo asks.

I glance at the clock on the wall. She’s right. It’s two in the afternoon—the time I usually do a few circles of the corridor outside the room.

“It’s a beautiful day outside,” Jojo says. She looks out onto the snowy hospital grounds.

It’s not the first time she’s hinted I should go out and get some fresh air. I haven’t done more than step out the front door since we’ve been here.

But today, I follow her gaze. She’s right, it’s beautiful. The sky is blue, and there’s a little creek back there, running through several bare-limbed trees lined with snow. An old man is out there feeding some little birds, holding his hand out for them to land on it.

Despite my mind consumed with Leif, I can’t help the little shudder that runs over me.

Leif would laugh at me if he saw me.

I glance back at him, then at Jojo, who’s already moved on to the other trash cans in the room.

“Thank you,” I say, as I pass her for the door.

As it turns out, the man doesn’t speak any English, only Chinese. But we make do with gestures. He’s generous, and pours seeds into my hand when he sees me looking at the bag.

He mimes what I’m supposed to do, and after a few bracing breaths, I grit my teeth and hold my hand up in the air.

When the first one lands, I shriek and drop the seeds.

The man laughs, then gives me more.

He points to his eyes, widening them. He’s telling me to keep my eyes open.

I drop the second batch too.

But with my eyes open, I see a familiar car pull up. My mom gets out, crossing the snow toward me, a sad smile stretching across her face. She’s been here almost every day, dropping off supplies for me and Leif’s family.

“I haven’t seen you smile recently,” I say when she reaches us.

“I haven’t seen you feeding birds…ever.”

“I haven’t been successful yet.”

The man shakes the bag of seed at Mom, saying something in his language.

She looks at me, then nods and goes over and gets some seed. “Should we do it together, Noelle?” she asks.

“Okay,” I whisper.

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