Page 213 of Black Bird

“It’s all over the news. That, and the obvious reason you’re in here.”

He figured now that Conrad was gone, however it leaked didn’t really matter anymore. Now he’d be able to give his mother the funeral she deserved … andwithoutthe threat of a feud. “Are you here by yourself?”

“No, my parents are in the cafeteria. I wanted to wait until you woke up. I came to give you your Christmas present.”

He laid his head back against the bed, staring forward and blinking. “Is it Christmas already?”

“Yeah, it’s Christmas Eve.”

Brent looked back at her, and she offered him a tight smile. “You didn’t need to get me anything, kid. I’m happy just to be graced with your presence. You look like you’re feeling so much better.”

“Yeah, about that.” Annie turned her body around and bent over the arm of the chair to pick up a small box wrapped in Christmas paper. She held it in front of her between her two small hands. “I know… I know your mom told you to pass that blood off to me. I wouldn’t be here today if itweren’t for you, your ex, and your mom. I owe all of you my life, and—and I just wanted to say thank you.”

“You already did that, Annie.”

“You lost her because of that.” Her voice broke with emotion, and she eyed him carefully. “I understand we had the same cancer. That’s why your dad sought me out. I think it’s only fair to give you this. You didn’t just take a bullet for that girl he kidnapped, Brent. You took that for all of us.”

“I don’t think I understand what you mean.” Brent’s brows pinched.

“He was a bad man, Brent. Even I knew that, and I’m ten. He did a lot of bad things and hurt a lot of people. People that he was supposed to be looking after. He knew he was poisonous, but … if he were alive to see you like this today? I really believe that it would have changed the man that he was. I feel like whatever part of a father he was to you would have been devastated that he made that mistake.”

Brent sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna diminish that innocence in you, Annie. The young mind that has compassion and sees the good in people. But, I don’t believe that.”

“I do …” She straightened and lifted her chin with such confidence. Brent bristled. “You might not even wanna hear this, but the first day he came into my room with that offer … we talked about you. I might be just a kid, but I’m not stupid. I’ve always been able to tell when my mom and dad were proud of me. I held tight to that on my worst days.” They stared at each other for a long moment. “Your dad might not have shown it enough, but he was proud of you. I think part of him might have even been proud that you weren’t anything like him. Showing that would have made him seem vulnerable, and that’s why he treated you that way.”

His throat tightened, and the doorknob growing in it was hard to swallow around. He dipped his chin. “Thanks, Annie.”

She lowered her legs and leaned forward, bending her small frame over him and pressing a warm kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Stratford.”

Brent pulled her beanie down over her eyes and smiled when she grunted in annoyance. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

Annie pressed the small gift into his hands and pulled back, pointing at it as she turned for the door. “Don’t open that until I leave. I hope it makes your daymerry and bright.” She winked over her shoulder, grasping her book in her arm as she opened the door and walked out, softly clicking it shut behind her.

He stared at the door for a few silent moments and then down at the gift in his lap. Slowly, he started unwrapping the box, balling up the paper and tossing it next to his bed. He lifted the lid off, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a bag—a blood bag. The label read Annie’s name, and he blinked once … twice. Sarah’s blood ran through that little girl. A little girl that was cured of cancer … almost within minutes. She was giving him a speedy recovery. A relief to his pain. An end to his suffering. He unfolded a note written in handwriting that, while childlike, was almost too good for a kid her age.

When you’re ready to use it, call the nurse, and when she answers … tell her you’re ready for your eggnog. We paid her off. She’s waiting to hear from you. Don’t be dumb. I need you to get well so we can start planning our wedding.

-Annie-

Brent smiled, blinking back a tear or two as he folded the note back into the box and fixed the lid. Any apprehension about using it was curbed by his witness to what it did for Annie. The thought of giving it to someone else died with the warning Sarah had given them all about exploiting it. That would have made him no better than his father. Brent bit down on his lip and pressed the call button on his bed.

“Can I help you?”The nurse’s voice answered after a beep.

“Yeah I’m … um … ready for myeggnog?”

Whatever they had given her wasgoodshit. She’d needed that sleep. Hard, dreamless … block out the world sleep. Wren wondered how much she’d have to pay to have somebody slip her a bit more as her fingers pinched between her eyes, and her mother’s voice scratched on the very last nerve she had.

“None of what they brought is warm enough for this weather. What evenisthis?” Her mother held up a pair of black tights that Wren had meticulously cut the face of a skull into at the thigh, and snagged runs in all the right places.

“They’re tights, Ma. Put it down,” Wren groaned, pulling her knees to her chest as she leaned against the incline of her bed.

“These should have been thrown away. This generation will be the end of us, I swear it. Tights were meant to warm, and cover. This will do neither. Don’t you have jeans? A pairwithoutholes in them?”

“Nope.”

“What about something that isn’t black?” she asked, digging through the bag Sarah had brought yesterday. They’d allowed her to finally shower, and another glorious thing about being in a stuffy hospital was that the hot water never ran out. While the messy bun that she’d tied up on her headwasstill messy, it was at least clean, and her sore muscles thanked her for the ease of tension.

“You’re giving me a headache.”

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