All We Know of Heaven Read Online Free Page B

her,” Caitlin said. “I don’t know if it would look right.”
    Caitlin stabbed in the numbers to call Sabrina instead. Her minutes were already used up, but this was an emer gency. When Sabrina picked up, Caitlin totally babbled. They were operating on Bridget. Bridget was going to make it. Nobody said anything about Maureen. Sabrina just as sumed she was dead, but she didn’t know for sure. Coach Eddington was at the hospital with lots of parents, and she had told Sabrina she had not yet made up her mind if they would compete tomorrow.
    Leland swore a streak when Caitlin told her.
    “We don’t care how things look,” Leland said. “We’re not in mourning. Eddy should want us to win for them.”
    Caitlin wondered if Leland wanted to win for Leland ,

    because it would be in the newspaper if the squad went on to victory in spite of tragedy. It was true that lots of teams had only one flyer, and they still had Taylor.
    Taylor saw the accident on TV. It was nearly one AM when she showed up, crashing breathless through the woods with her older sister, Rae.
    By then they’d found everything they could locate in the dark and snow: three identical size-seven shoes, both girls’ gymbagswiththeircheeringpracticeclothesandbodysuits inside, one brown Ugg boot, the jacket, and Maureen’s CD case. Brandon Hillier’s father had showed up with some lumber; Brandon must have called him. Mr. Hillier came off-roading through the woods in his big-wheeled truck. Brandon took out one of Maureen’s CDs and put it in his dad’s player while some of the boys made a cross with the lumber and nails and wrapped it in reflective duct tape. The voice on the CD sang, “My life is brilliant. / My love is pure. / I saw an angel. / Of that I’m sure.” It was as lonely as the moaning of the wind.

    early next morning ‌

    Amber Kresky, RN, twenty-four years old, whose little sister Britney was also a cheerleader, decided to help the aides clean up the rooms.
    Strictly speaking, it wasn’t her job.
    But she wanted to do it out of respect; and only about half the ED beds were filled, and not with people truly in danger. They were like the guy in three, who’d decided to stop taking his blood thinners and had spent the money on ice-fishing gear.
    There were two thousand people in Bigelow, and it was fair to say that almost all of them knew the O’Malleys or the Flannerys from church or the school, where Mr. O’Malley had been the wrestling coach for twenty years.

    The Bulldogs were a wrestling dynasty, Division Three state champions four times in the past ten years. Amber’s new husband, Mitchell, had wrestled for him. People sent Coach O’Malley so many cookies and six-packs at Christmas that Coach said if he kept it all, he’d be a four- hundred-pound drunk.
    Amber smiled softly, as she pulled on a fresh pair of gloves.
    Please God, bless Coach O’Malley and Mrs. O’Malley. Maureen, she heard, was out of surgery. Bridget Flan
    nery was up in the OR. The surgeons were still fighting for her. It was bad, but it was anyone’s guess what would happen. The poor little things. No one could say for sure. It was like Dr. Krill and Dr. Collins always said: The first twelve hours told the tale. But Amber knew that kids that sick, even if they lived . . . This might not turn out to be a tale anyone wanted to hear the end of.
    Like, not a fairy tale.
    She needed to get her mind off it. Get to work.
    The parents of Bigelow would be commandeering car keys at the first snowflake for weeks at least, and maybe all winter long.
    She hoped so.
    If it were up to Amber, her sister Britney would never drive a car again.
    She started cleaning the room where Coach’s little girl had been. She had coded twice, but they brought her back and sent her up to surgery.

    Amber had to catch herself. Not “Coach’s little girl.” Maureen was sixteen.
    Although she was little, only a hair over five feet tall, just exactly the same as Bridget Flannery. The