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She turned to Lina, as still standing in the same place, her face paler now, her eyes filled with tears “He’s dead,” she said dully

“No He’s alive He’s in surgery”

Lina started to cry “Oh, Mom …”

Madelaine got to her feet and stood there, shaking She took a deep, steadying breath There was no time for this panic, this fear Later she could fall apart, but now Francis needed her Lina needed her

She handled it the only way she kneith cold practicality She donned the invisible white coat and became Dr Hillyard, who dealt with these crises every day

She went to Lina and pulled her daughter into her ar her close She felt Lina’s ar of Lina’s body against hers, felt the ainst her neck “Shh,” she whispered, stroking Lina’s damp cheek

“We’ve got to be strong for Francis now There isn’t tiet dressed and pack us a bag I’ll call the airline”

Lina shook her head “I can’t”

Madelaine gripped her daughter by the shoulders “You can You have to” She softened a little bit, as ery, Lina That means he’s still alive He needs us”

Lina looked up, her“We need him, too, Mom”

The few small words hurt so badly that Madelaine felt her own tears rising, cresting “Yes” She said the word in a whisper of her normal voice, but it boomed into the silence like a scream

The drive to the airport and the flight to Portland seemed to take forever

Madelaine stared out the airplane’s s her own ashen features reflected in the fake glass Her eyes looked like black holes burned into flesh-tone plastic; her mouth was a colorless crease

Finally the plane started its ear-popping descent Madelaine turned to Lina, saw the pallor of her daughter’s cheek, the involuntary tremble of her lower lip

She ached to say that Francis would be okay, but she couldn’t rained to trump the mother anted to offer unconditional hope