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blonde and his skin a very rosy pale. I looked into his hazel eyes and knew. Totally impossible, but I knew.
    “Linc?” I whispered.
    “Oh my God,” he whispered back. “I forgot you existed.”
    “No way,” I mumbled, stumbling away from the bed and into Clive.
    “So this isn’t your dad?” he asked.
    I shook my head, trying to edge further away.
    “Do you know who he is?”
    I shook my head again.
    Grandma shoved me back towards the bed. “Lincoln!” she cried, pointing.
    The man in the bed turned his watery eyes back to me. “Bixby, it’s me. Don’t you recognize me?”
    “This is totally impossible,” I whispered.
    “I’m sorry,” Clive broke in. “I’m going to need some answers here. This obviously isn’t your father but do you know him?”
    “Lincoln,” Grandma chirped happily, plopping down in a chair next to the bed.
    I tried to work some spit into my mouth as Clive and the man in the bed waited for an answer. “He looks like my brother but my brother …”
    “Yes?” Clive prompted.
    “My brother …” I looked closer at the Lincoln look alike, searching for irrefutable proof. “Wait, can you roll over?”
    “Bixby, it’s me,” he pleaded.
    “Right, but if I could just see your back,” I asked, already knowing what I would see and also knowing it was impossible.
    Understanding lit his eyes and he carefully rolled over under a tangle of wires and tubes.
    I parted the hospital gown over his back and a fully colored, inked phoenix came into view. I scraped the gown up over his shoulders and saw the upturned beak, pointing at the three small stars, the blue and the green in the flame burning the bird. Our dad had let him get the tattoo for his seventeenth birthday. Linc had drawn it himself. For a long moment I stared then with shaking hands I pulled the gown closed. A thin gleam of silver slid out from my shirt sleeve.
    Air squeaked out of my tight throat and I fumbled to pull my sleeve down.
    Clive and the nurse were looking at me expectantly. I helped the man roll back over and searched his face.
    “This is my brother, Lincoln Gray,” I finally said and burst into tears.
    I could hear the other people in the room questioningly throwing around words like “missing person” and “runaway” while Lincoln and I cried and hugged each other. They let us have our reunion but when we pulled away to wipe our faces and blow our noses, Clive was right there with his clipboard.
    “I have a few, actually several, questions I’m going to need the answers to,” he said sternly.
    Lincoln looked to me anxiously. “I don’t know … anything,” he said worriedly.
    I opened my mouth, paused and then shut it. Everyone was looking at me. “I ... I have to go to the bathroom,” I finally said lamely.

Chapter 4
     
     
    A NURSE WITH A SYMPATHETIC look fixed on her face led me to small bathroom where I gratefully locked myself in. I sat on the closed toilet lid for a few minutes, thinking I might want to cry more. I even squeezed my eyelids shut a few times, but no luck. Finally, I had to settle for splashing cold water on my face. It felt so good to be distracted from everything happening I practically gave myself a shower then slowly, methodically wiped my face and hands dry with the scratchy brown paper towel.
    I stopped at my wrists.With wonder and fear, I stared at the silver bracelets encircling each of them. They were the same thin, perfect ovals from my dream. And like in my dream they didn’t have hinges or clasps and were too snug to be pulled off. I tried anyway but they didn’t move, nor did the thin, delicate metal bend when I tried to pull it. But most alarming were the same thin, gauzy wisps of chaincoming from each bracelet, joining at about my knees and falling away to the floor and seemingly under the door. Just like in my dream.
    My mind processed all this with calm, numb thoughts. “Maybe I’m in shock,” I whispered to myself, trying to catch the thin chains in my