Dear Edward: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

by some,” John says.
    Susan gives an almost inaudible sigh. “In case we don’t have another chance to talk properly before you leave, I wanted to remind you about the personal-injury and aviation lawyers. They’re going to land on you like vultures, I’m afraid. But they’re not allowed to approach you until forty-five days after the crash. So please disregard, or sue, anyone who does. You know all the medical bills are being covered by the airline. There’s no rush to settle. You’ll get Social Security death benefits first, then life-insurance money, if either of Edward’s parents had a policy. It will take time to sort out the rest, and I don’t want you to let anyone convince you that any kind of legal action is urgent.”
    “Okay,” Lacey says, but it’s clear that she’s not paying attention. The TV in the corner is on mute, but the bottom of the screen runs a banner reading, MIRACLE BOY BEING RELEASED TO HOSPITAL NEAR RELATIVES’ HOME.
    “People can be terrible,” Susan says.
    Edward shifts on the bed. He turns his head, exposing a smooth, bruised cheek.
    “There are family members,” she continues, “from the other passengers on the plane who wanted to see Edward, but we kept them away.”
    “Jesus,” John says. “Why do they want to see him?”
    Susan shrugs. “Maybe because Edward was the last one to see their loved ones alive.”
    John makes a small noise in his throat.
    “I’m sorry,” Susan says, her cheeks pinkening. “I should have phrased that differently.”
    Lacey sits down in one of the chairs next to the window. A beam of sunlight creates a halo effect around her exhausted face.
    “One more thing,” Susan says. “The president is going to call.”
    “The president?”
    “ The president. Of the United States.”
    John laughs, a quick burst into the particular air of this room. Charged air. Air that is waiting for the next word from the boy on the bed. Air that shushes everyone who enters, separating those who have lost from those who haven’t.
    Lacey puts her hands to her unwashed hair and John says, “He’ll be on the phone, Lace. He won’t be able to see you.”
----
    —
    The nurses bustle the boy awake by drawing blood and taking vitals right around when the call is due to come in.
    “I’m here,” Lacey says. “So is Uncle John.”
    Edward’s face contorts.
    Lacey feels a shot of panic. Is he in pain? And then realizes what his face is trying to do. He’s trying to smile, to please her.
    “No, no,” she whispers. Then, to the room at large: “Are we ready for the call?”
    When she turns back, Edward has stopped trying.
    A brand-new phone has been installed next to the bed, and Susan is there to press the speaker button.
    “Edward?” The voice is deep; it fills the room.
    The boy is horizontal on the bed, looking small and damaged to the grown-ups that surround him. “Yes, sir?”
    “Young man…” The president pauses. “There’s not much I or anyone else can say that will mean anything to you right now. I can only imagine what you’re going through.”
    Edward’s eyes are wide, flat.
    “I wanted to tell you that the whole country is sorry for your loss and that we’re rooting for you to pull through this. We’re rooting for you, son.”
    Lacey nudges Edward’s arm, but Edward doesn’t say a word.
    The deep voice repeats the words, slower now, as if convinced that the repetition will make a difference. “The whole country is rooting for you.”
----
    —
    Edward is silent on the plane ride to New Jersey. Silent in the ambulance, which has blacked-out windows to keep the press from snapping pictures of him. He speaks only when medically necessary for the remaining two weeks in the New Jersey hospital, as his lung mends and his leg comes out of traction.
    “You’re healing beautifully,” a doctor says to Edward.
    “I keep hearing a clicking sound.”
    The doctor’s face changes; an invisible dial inside him spins and lands on the clinical