Page 88 of Blade

And what was she thinking would happen there? That her family, together for the first time since last Christmas, could turn back time? Make her feel the way she did when her mother wafted through the door after showing a house? Calling out,I’m home!The afternoon light streaming through her bedroom window somehow brighter when she heard her mother’s voice? She would start cooking, her father setting the table. Tim blaring his music. Then—Time for dinner!

The smallest things that—she now realized—had filled half of her up. A baseline of happiness that she could add to with her skating and her other dreams. Like a smile from the hockey player with the steady gaze. Her first kiss.

The things she needed were laid out before her—now that they were gone.

She crawled into her mother’s bed on the last night and sat close to her. Connie was too tired to watch a movie, so Ana made up stories about The Palace, all of her wonderful friends there and the silly things they did. She told Connie about Dawn’s praise for her, and how her triples were coming along. How excited she was to compete at Nationals for the first time. The lies just flew from her mouth.

Then Connie started to cry. She took Ana’s hand and held it to her lips, and Ana looked at her mouth to see what words she might hear next.I love you,maybe.I’m so proud of you.

But that was not what she said, or tried to say.

“Who are you?” she demanded. Angry and scared. She pushed Ana off the bed.

“Mom?” Ana said—not just afraid.Terrified.

Her father raced into the room, past Ana, who was on the floor, and onto the bed, where he held his wife.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You know her, Connie. She’s a lovely girl. You’re perfectly safe.”

Ana stared at her father’s back, while her mother glared at her from over his shoulder as he held her tight. Her arms were listless by her sides. Like those of a rag doll.

Carl let her go. He laid her back down and turned on the TV.

“Watch your show, honey,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

He walked to Ana and led her out of the room. He explained that the tumor in her mother’s brain had grown, in spite of all the trials and treatments. It had grown like a different kind of weed, stealing her memories. Taking her life before she was even dead.

Ana cried, and Carl cried. Holding her the way he’d held her mother.

“I’m going to take you back to Echo tomorrow,” he said. “You have to go live your life, Ana. That’s what she wanted. Not for you to see her like this.”

He pulled away just far enough for her to see his eyes.

“Promise me, okay.”

The following Saturday, she went to the rink for the eight a.m. session like she always did. She didn’t have a lesson, but Dawn wanted her to run through her long program. She said she’d be watching from the corner of her eye as soon as the music started.Rhapsody in Blue, the first notes, pushing into a layback spin, the world a blur as she felt her right leg lift, a ninety-degree angle, her left blade on that spot right between the first spike of the toe pick and the last inch of the straight edge. Arms overhead, a perfect arch. Ten rotations, then a release, backward onto a right outside edge.

Her mind was already ahead to the first jumping pass—the triple-triple combination—when she saw Dawn skating toward her, and behind that image, by the boards, her father, who hadn’t been to The Palace for months. It didn’t register as she reached the bend that if he was here, something bad had happened.

“Ana!” Dawn called out, trailing behind her on her gold blades. “Stop.”

So she stopped and waited for Dawn to catch up, then take her in her arms, inside the blue puffer coat.

“You need to come with me,” she said. And then, “I’m so sorry.”

Ana followed Dawn off the ice. Grabbing her skate guards, slipping them on. Then up the stairs to her office. Her father was right behind them.

In Dawn’s office, she learned her mother had died the night before, in her bed. Carl said those actual words. But he entrusted the rest of it to Dawn. Who said things likeshe’s at peace now. Andshe’s proud of you. Ana’s eyes darted between them, her father and Dawn. For the first time since arriving at The Palace, she truly felt like an orphan.

Carl spent the day with her at Avery Hall. In her empty room, sitting on her bed, talking about what had happened. He repeated what Dawn had said. How Connie was at peace now. In a better place. She’d said her goodbyes over Thanksgiving weekend, and didn’t Ana know that was what those moments had been? Wasn’t it obvious?

They called Tim and spoke to him together. He seemed to understand all these things about the end having been days away and the goodbyes having come and gone.

“She wrote you both letters, and I’ll share them with you next time we’re all together,” Carl said.

Ana couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even cry. Again, she was frozen. Not with fear but with something else. Something even worse.

Carl left and told her she should go back to the rink. “Live your life,” he said again. “It’s the best thing for you. I promise. I love you.”