Year One Read Online Free PDF Page B

against contagion. I can let you see her for a few minutes, but you need to be prepared. She’s very ill. You’ll need to wear a mask and gloves and a protective gown.”
    â€œI don’t care what I have to wear, I need to see my mother.”
    â€œYou won’t be able to touch her,” Rachel added. “And you can only see her for a few minutes.”
    â€œI’m going with my wife.”
    â€œAll right. First, I need you to tell me everything you can about their time in Scotland. Your mother said they only got back today, and had been there since the day after Christmas. Do you know if your father was ill before they left?”
    â€œNo, no, he was fine. We had Christmas. We always go to the farm the day after. We all go, but I couldn’t because I can’t travel right now.”
    â€œDid you speak to them while they were gone?”
    â€œOf course. Almost every day. I’m telling you they were fine. You can ask Uncle Rob—my father’s twin brother. They were all there, and they were fine. You can ask him. He’s in London.”
    â€œCan you give me his contact number?”
    â€œI’ll do that.” Tony gripped Katie’s hand. “I’ve got all that, and I’ll give you whatever you need. But Katie needs to see her mom.”
    Once the family members were gowned and gloved, Rachel did what she could to prepare them.
    â€œYour mother’s being treated for dehydration. She’s running a high fever, and we’re working on bringing that down.” She paused outside the room with its glass wall, a fine-boned woman with what would have been an explosion of black curls had they not beenclamped ruthlessly back. Fatigue dogged her deep chocolate eyes, but her tone remained brisk.
    â€œThe plastic curtaining is to protect against infections.”
    All Katie could do was stare through the glass, through the film of the plastic inside the room, to the woman in the narrow hospital bed.
    Like a husk of my mother, she thought.
    â€œI just talked to her. I just talked to her.”
    She gripped Tony’s hand, stepped inside.
    Monitors beeped. Green squiggles and spikes ran across the screens. Some sort of fan hummed like a swarm of wasps. Over it all she heard her mother’s rasping breaths.
    â€œMom,” she said, but Angie didn’t stir. “Is she sedated?”
    â€œNo.”
    Katie cleared her throat, spoke louder, clearer. “Mom, it’s Katie. Mom.”
    Angie stirred, moaned. “Tired, so tired. Make the soup. Sick day, we’ll have a sick day. Mommy, I want my lambie jammies. Can’t go to school today.”
    â€œMom, it’s Katie.”
    â€œKatie, Katie.” On the pillow, Angie’s head turned right, left, right, left. “Mommy says Katie, bar the door. Bar the door, Katie.” Angie’s eyes fluttered open, and her fever-bright gaze rolled around the room. “Don’t let it come in. Do you hear it, rustling in the bushes? Katie, bar the door!”
    â€œDon’t worry, Mom. Don’t worry.”
    â€œDo you see the crows? All the crows circling.”
    That bright, blind gaze landed on Katie—and something Katie recognized as her mother came into it. “Katie. There’s my baby girl.”
    â€œI’m here, Mom. Right here.”
    â€œDad and I aren’t feeling our best. We’re going to have chicken soup on trays in bed and watch TV.”
    â€œThat’s good.” Tears rushed into Katie’s throat, but she pushed the words through them. “You’ll feel better soon. I love you.”
    â€œYou have to hold my hand when we cross the street. It’s very important to look both ways.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œDid you hear that!” Breath quickening, Angie dropped her voice to a whisper. “Something rustling in the bushes. Something’s watching.”
    â€œNothing’s there, Mom.”
    â€œThere is! I