In the After

to help. . . . Do you spend a lot of time thinking about Before?” His voice was full of concern.
    “Not really, I think it’s better not to. When I lost everything, everybody, it was so surreal. It was a long time until the After felt like reality. By then I’d already accepted that my parents were gone and my friends were dead.”
    We sat in silence. I tilted my head and rested it on his shoulder. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed. We stayed like this for a while. I needed, at that moment, to feel support—a physical touch that could make me feel this was real.
    “You can always speak with someone about it,” he said, breaking the silence. “We have trained psychiatrists available for anyone who needs them. Therapy is encouraged here. It could help, you know, instead of keeping it all bottled up inside.”
    “Sorrow concealed . . . ,” I whispered.
    “Like an oven stopp’d, Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.” Rice finished the quote. I picked my head up off his shoulder and looked at him, astounded.
    “What? I can’t know my Shakespeare?” he asked with a little smile. “I’m not just a bio-geek. . . . I’m an everything geek,” he admitted.
    I sat with my back against the couch, content to be there with Rice. I wished I could stay forever, in the quiet.
    “I think I need to rest,” I told him. “Would you mind letting us get some sleep?”
    “Sure. I know it’s been a long morning.”
    That was an understatement. It was only yesterday that Baby and I were taken from the lakefront, only yesterday I was reunited with my mother, only yesterday I discovered there were nearly four thousand more people in this world than I dared hope.
    It wasn’t yesterday; it was a lifetime ago.
    • • •
    “Are you doing okay in here, Amy?” a voice asks .
    I smile, my eyes half closed. Why wouldn’t I be okay? Everything here is so peaceful .
    “Do you recognize me?” The boy inserts himself in front of me, blocking my view of the trees. I try to focus on him. He has shaggy, blond hair and glasses. He looks smart. Is he one of the doctors who take care of me? He seems too young to be a doctor or a nurse .
    “You’re . . . a friend?” I ask, unsure .
    “Yes, I’m a . . . friend.”
    He is frowning, so I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. They’ll make you better here. That’s what they do.” I try to reassure him .
    He pulls away from me, still frowning. “Oh, Amy, I am so sorry.”
    I shake my head. I don’t understand what he would be sorry for .
    Then he leans in and whispers softly, “I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.”
    My mother’s face flashes in my mind. I want to see her and Baby . Why am I here and not with them? “Maybe you should talk to my mother,” I say loudly. “She’s the director, you know. She can help you get me home,” I tell him excitedly. The boy looks horrified and backs away .
    “What’s going on here?” A nurse comes over to check on us .
    The boy’s expression turns cool. “It’s okay. Ms. Harris was just a bit agitated,” he tells the nurse calmly. He takes off his glasses and cleans the lenses with his lab coat. “She was asking for her mother.”
    “Should I inform Dr. Thorpe?” the nurse asks, uncertain .
    “No, I’ll let Dr. Reynolds know,” the boy tells her with finality. After she leaves, the boy leans in again. I think he is going to kiss me on the cheek but instead when his lips brush my skin, he whispers so low I almost do not hear him. “Watch for Kay.” He pulls back and looks in my eyes. There is kindness in his .
    Kay. The name is so familiar. There is a glimmer of recollection before it slips away. He squeezes my hand as I stare out the window and watch the trees tremble in the breeze. As the boy starts to leave, I yell after him, “You should definitely talk to my mother. She would want to help me.”
    But something is nagging at the back of my mind and I’m not so sure. A wave of fear washes over me . Why hasn’t my mother come for me? Where is she?
    • • •
    “I came as soon as I heard,” my mother said the minute she walked in. “Are you okay?” She sat next to me on the couch, hugging me, then Baby.
    “I’m fine. Baby dropped a glass and freaked out because of the noisy cafeteria.” I patted Baby’s shoulder. “Then I super freaked out,” I admitted.
    “You’re still getting used to things here. It’s only been a day.” She twirled her