Untamed

was how I finally got her to leave. And I promised Darius I wouldn't leave the hospital unless I called him for a ride, even though the school was less than a mile down the street, and it would be mega-easy for me to walk back.
    Time passed weirdly in ICU. There were no outside windows and, except for the sci-fi thrums and beats and clicks of the hospital machinery, the rooms were dark and quiet. I imagined it was a kind of waiting room for death, which completely creeped me out. But I couldn't leave Grandma. I wouldn't leave her, not unless someone ready to battle demons would take my place. So I sat and I waited and I kept watch over her sleeping body as it fought to heal itself.
    I was sitting there, just holding her hand and softly singing the words of one of the Cherokee lullabies she liked to sing me to sleep with when Sister Mary Angela finally breezed into the room.
    She took one look at me, one look at my grandma, and then she opened her arms. I hurled myself into her arms, stifling my sobs against the smooth material of her habit.
    "Shh, now. All will be well, child. She is in Our Lady's hands now," she murmured while she patted my back.
    When I could finally talk, I looked up at her and thought I'd never been so happy to see anyone in my life. "Thank you so much for coming, Sister."
    "I was honored that you called me, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. I had a lot of fires to put out before I could get away from the abbey," she said. Still keeping an arm around me, she walked back to Grandma's bedside.
    "That's okay. I'm just glad you're here now. Sister Mary Angela, this is my grandma, Sylvia Redbird," I said in a choked little voice. "She's been my mother and my father. I love her very much."
    "She must be quite a special woman to have the devotion of such a grandchild."
    I looked quickly up at Sister Mary Angela. "The hospital doesn't know I'm a fledgling."
    "It shouldn't matter what you are," the nun said firmly. "If you or your family needs succor and care, they should provide it."
    "It doesn't always work out that way," I said.
    Her wise eyes studied me. "Unfortunately, I must agree with you."
    "Then you'll help me without telling them who I am?"
    "I will," she said.
    "Good, because Grandma and I need your help."
    "What can I do?"
    I glanced at Grandma. She seemed to be resting as peacefully as she had been ever since I sat down next to her. I'd heard no more bird wings, and felt no premonitions of evil. And yet I was reluctant to leave her alone, even if it was for just a few minutes.
    "Zoey?"
    I looked into the wise, kind eyes of this amazing nun and told her the utter truth. "I need to talk to you, and I don't want to do it in here, where we could be interrupted or overheard, but I'm scared to leave Grandma alone and unprotected."
    She gazed back at me calmly, not at all perturbed by my weirdness. Then she reached into one of the front pockets of her voluminous black habit and drew out a small but beautifully detailed statue of the Virgin Mary.
    "Would it ease your mind if I left Our Lady here with your grandmother while you and I speak?"
    I nodded. "I think it would, Sister," I said, not trying to analyze why I should be so reassured by an icon of the mother of Christianity that a nun had brought with her. I was just grateful my gut was saying that I could trust this nun and the "magic" she carried.
    Sister Mary Angela put the little statue of Mary on Grandma's bedside table. Then she bowed her head and clasped her hands. I could see her lips moving, but her words were so soft that I could not hear them. The nun crossed herself, kissed her fingers, and touched the statue lightly, and then she and I left Grandma's room.
    "Is it still daylight outside?" I asked.
    She looked at me with surprise. "It hasn't been daylight for hours, Zoey. It's after ten o'clock at night."
    I rubbed at my face. I was utterly exhausted. "Do you mind if we walk outside for just a little while? I have to tell you a lot of hard stuff, and it'll be easier if I can feel the night air surrounding me."
    "It's a lovely, cool night. I'd be happy to walk in it with you."
    We wound our way out of the maze of St. John's and finally exited on its west side, facing Utica Street and the beautiful fountain that cascaded across the street from the hospital at the corner of Twenty-first and Utica.
    "Wanta walk over by the fountain?" I asked.
    "Lead the way, Zoey," Sister Mary Angela said with a smile.
    We didn't talk while we