In the After

“Maybe Amy can have a special orientation sometime. That way she can understand the social system we’ve worked out for New Hope.”
    Rice nodded.
    She turned back to me. “Richard can take you one day. I wish I had the time.”
    I felt my heart surge a little, the old resentment setting in: my mother the workaholic. “I know you’re busy, Mom. I get how it is. Dad always . . .” I stopped myself. My mother’s pose shifted, suddenly stiff. I knew it was hard for her to hear me talk about my father. She retreated to the kitchen quietly.
    Rice turned back to the front door and I thanked him before he went. “Baby really enjoyed our tour earlier.” I paused. “So did I.”
    He looked at me, his blue eyes shining behind his glasses. “I’m glad I could help,” he said. “It was nice to meet you, again. You know, without the weapon.”
    Suddenly I didn’t want him to leave. He was a friend—a comfort—in an unfamiliar place. Instead of shaking his hand, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him.
    “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear. When I released him, he was beet red. He mumbled something incoherent and stumbled out the door.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    When I’m not sleeping, or staring out the window in the common room, I spend a lot of my time watching old Disney movies. Everyone enjoys the cartoons, so there are always other people here, around me, but I don’t pay attention to them. They sit quietly, watching contentedly, and I do the same .
    One day I am deep into Snow White when I hear someone repeating my name. I turn from the television. My mother is sitting in the chair next to me. I hadn’t even noticed she’d arrived .
    “Hi, Mom.”
    She smoothes my hair, petting my head. There are tears in her eyes. I don’t understand why she is so upset .
    “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I came as soon as they said you were stable. You had a dissociative mental break.” She glances around the room and lowers her voice. “I didn’t tell him what you learned about the Floraes.”
    “What about them?” I ask. Something pulls at my mind and I feel like I should understand her, but I don’t know what she’s talking about .
    My mother stares at me. “It’s . . . it’s nothing. I just wanted to let you know that I love you.” She hugs me .
    “I love you too, Mom.” I turn back to the cartoon .
    “It might not seem like it, but you’re getting well here. You’re getting the help you need.” She takes my hand .
    “I know,” I tell her .
    “Dr. Reynolds sounds very positive about your recovery.” Her voice quavers and she sniffles loudly .
    At the mention of Dr. Reynolds, I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I try to ignore it. “That’s nice,” I say uncomfortably .
    She lets go of my hand and kisses my forehead. I don’t know how long she stays by my side, but when I think to look again, she’s gone .
    • • •
    It’s Baby who elbowed me awake in the morning. My nightmare was still fresh in my mind: the Florae had Baby and she was terrified, screaming. I shook the fear from my mind as I felt for Baby’s hand and signed, What? still half asleep.
    Mom is talking really loudly .
    I listened, but couldn’t hear anything. So?
    She’s saying your name. I know it in loud speak. Maybe she needs you .
    I sat up quickly and silently walked to the bedroom door. Putting my ear to the crack I could just barely make out my mother’s muffled voice.
    “But Amy has already gone through intake. . . .” She paused, listening. “Yes, I know, but I don’t think she requires a full psyche-eval. . . . It just seems unnecessary.” She sounded exasperated. “Yes, of course I understand there are no exceptions, even if it is a waste of time.” There was another long pause. “I’ll have them there at eight.”
    My mother was quiet, shuffling papers, when I pushed open the door.
    “Oh hi, honey.” She hastily shoved her papers into her computer bag. “You doing okay?”
    “I’m good. Better,” I told her. “Still in shock,” I added honestly.
    She patted the empty spot next to her on the couch and wrapped her arms around me when I sat down.
    “It’s okay for you to feel disoriented,” she assured me. “But it’s important for you to know that everything will soon seem routine.” She pulled back, then, and gave me a hard look. “You do know that, don’t you, Amy? You’ll fit in here just fine. You’ll be back to normal in no time.”
    “I don’t think