Storms 01 - Family Storms

it leaves the body after twelve hours. More people have probably died from it than has been reported. Young people,” he added.
    “Thanks, Mat,” Mr. March said, rising. “What room is she in?”
    “Three-forty. I’ll be up in a little while, too,” he said.
    Mrs. March stood up and took her husband’s hand. Then she turned to me and held out her other hand for me. I rose quickly, took it, and walked with them to the elevator.
    Our lives really do move in circles,
I thought as we went up to Kiera’s room. My life with the Marches had begun with my being in a hospital, and there I was again in a hospital with not much more time before my life with them would end.
    Although they had both already seen Kiera, the sight of her in the hospital bed with her body connected to the monitors froze them. When I looked at her, I thought she had begun to fade away. Her rich complexion was washed out. Her skin looked grayer. Her hair was still beautiful, but the loose strands on the pillow reflected the havoc that surely had preceded all of this in the ambulance and the emergency room. Caught in the frenzy to save her life, she had been poked and prodded, tossed and turned, and attached to machinery. She seemed more like a doll that had been violently shaken until parts of it were beginning to detach themselves.
    I still wanted to harden my heart against her, but Alena was pushing me forward. I could almost hear her pleading,
Help her. Help her.
    I went to the side of her bed. Her nurse stood back, and the Marches stood at the foot of the bed. I pulled a chair to the bed and sat, and then I reached for her hand.
    “I know the truth about you, Kiera,” I said. “I know you are in more pain than anger, and all you did to me and now have done to yourself was your way of covering up that pain. Don’t be afraid of it anymore. It’s there to clean awayyour guilt so you can live. Live for your parents. Live for the people who are waiting to love you. And live for Alena.”
    I let go of her hand, stood up, and put the chair back.
    “I’ll wait for you downstairs, Mrs. March,” I said. I was sure they wanted to be alone with their daughter.
    Neither of them said anything to me. They watched me leave. I fell asleep for a while in the waiting room. Mrs. March woke me, and for a few moments, I really didn’t know where I was.
    “She’s coming out of it,” she said, smiling through happy tears. “She has to be fully evaluated yet, but Dr. Kindle thinks the worst might be over.”
    “Good,” I said, and got up.
    “Donald’s waiting for us in the parking lot. He’s leaving his car here. He wants us to go home together.”
    I saw him standing by the car. He got in when he saw us and started the engine. I got into the rear quickly, and Mrs. March got in beside him. No one spoke for the longest time. I nearly fell asleep again, but when we reached the gate and it opened, Mr. March did not drive in. Instead, he turned to look at me.
    “Thank you for what you said to Kiera in there, Sasha. You are a remarkable young lady after all. I apologize for the things I said to you.”
    I didn’t know what to say. He was still staring at me, and we weren’t moving. The gate remained wide open, and the March mansion loomed ahead, many lights on. I imagined that Mrs. Duval and Mrs. Caro and the others were all waiting for news.
    “Maybe Mrs. March was right,” he continued. “Maybeyou are the daughter we lost. Maybe in an ironic and terribly painful way for us all, Kiera brought you here. I know this,” he said as he turned around to drive in. “You’re not leaving until you’re old enough to say good-bye and be on your own.”
    Smiling, Mrs. March reached back for my hand. I took hers, and the three of us drove up the grand driveway to the waiting mansion.
    And for the first time since I had arrived there, I felt that I was really coming home.

Epilogue
    I had no idea what Kiera would be like when she came home from the hospital. Mrs. March said that when her husband told Kiera I was going to remain with them, she wasn’t upset.
    “I wouldn’t tell you she was overjoyed with the news,” Mrs. March told me, “but she looked relieved. Right now, that might simply be because she’s not being blamed for something more. I don’t know. I always had trouble understanding Kiera and expect I will continue to have trouble. I’ll need your help.”
    “We’ll have to help each other with that,” I said, and she laughed.
    I was