The Savage Grace Page 31

I slowly walked down the steps and unlocked the old yellow door to Daniel’s apartment. I stood in the middle of his room for a few minutes, soaking in the fading scent of him there. I willed my hands and feet to move again, and I picked up a few of his notebooks from his desk, and found his half-filled-out Trenton application neatly stored in its envelope. I took that and his beat-up laptop, and stuffed them into the satchel bag I’d brought along. Next, I sorted through the stacks of Masonite boards and stretched canvas that leaned against his wall, choosing the best of his paintings and designs. I hoped they’d be the same ones he would have chosen for his Trenton portfolio. My chest felt so tight as I pulled the apartment door closed behind me when I left, thinking about how the things I took with me would be the only traces of Daniel’s human side left in this world if I failed to change him back.

My next stop was the hospital, where I alternated between sitting next to Dad’s bed, holding his too-still hand, for the twenty minutes of each hour I was allowed in his hospital room, and standing outside the elevator that would lead me up to my mother’s room in the psych ward.

When I couldn’t stand the beep of Dad’s heart monitor or the ding of the elevator anymore, I went to the hospital cafeteria and found an empty table where I could set up Daniel’s laptop. Between flipping through his notebooks and poking around in his computer files, I found six different drafts of his Trenton essays.

They were good but unfinished. I chose the best and filled in the gaps, channeling the things Daniel had always told me about wanting to use his talents to improve people’s lives. I only hoped my words could do his passion justice.

Crowds of diners came and went, and I was about to log off the computer and head back to Dad’s room again when I noticed a Word file titled: for grace.

I hovered the curser over the file, wondering what it could possibly contain. Wondering how Daniel would feel if he knew I opened it. Wondering if I could stand not to.

It said it was for me, after all.

I tapped the touch pad and opened the file, knowing I wouldn’t be able to do anything until I knew what Daniel had left for me. What I found was a poem.

For grace—

I was walking in the cool night air

Watching simple leaves gusted off

Blown by the same wind that blows through my window

like thoughts filling boxes in crowded basements

Self-inflicted thoughts

Sorted cards and picture books

Jumbled thoughts of you

Walking slowly and thinking clearly

I was watching the moon rise and fall

Thinking about bare feet and candlelight walks

About soup-filled dreams

Smooth silk hands and violet eyes

Smelling the night air and waiting for my mind to stop

Waiting and watching as the stars rolled on

You came then and stopped the stars

Pulling the moon from the sky with those words—

I was dreaming then, that I never meant to walk

But I saw the stars and saw your face

And couldn’t stand still knowing you

Knowing your humor, your brilliance, your beauty

Your grace

Knowing I love you.

My eyes flooded with tears and I was barely able to finish reading the last few lines. My heart ached so bad, I clutched at my chest. But it wasn’t a pain from sorrow, it was the feeling of the emptiness inside of me being filled up again—with the rushing, pulsing, warmth of Daniel’s love.

How had he known that this was exactly what I needed? How could I have ever doubted him? How could I stand to let my anger push him away?

I couldn’t risk that happening.

I had to do something.

I hadn’t been wandering like a stray all day long—I’d been running away from what I knew I needed to do even before Gabriel said I should last night. I gathered up the things on the table and walked with slow steps toward the small hospital chapel I’d passed on my way to the cafeteria. It looked different inside than my father’s parish back in Rose Crest, more sterile than sacred, but I knew I could still find God here if I sought him out. I continued my slow walk through the empty chapel until I reached the altar. I fell to my knees in front of it, and found myself doing what I’d been afraid to do for far too long now.

For the first time since I lay bleeding and ready to die on the floor of the Shadow Kings’ warehouse—I prayed.

For forgiveness.

For guidance.

For peace.

For the ability to bring Daniel back to me.

Chapter Fifteen

ON MY OWN

LATE AFTERNOON

When I finally left the hospital, my heart was lighter than it had felt in days, but the weather had turned dark and cloudy. The smell of rain hung the air. I had one last thing I needed to do in Rose Crest before I could go home and hunker down in an empty house for the impending storm. I pulled into the parking lot behind the Print & Ship shop on Main Street and carried my canvas bag inside. I paid a small fortune to print out a few documents from Daniel’s laptop on résumé paper, and then express ship two packages to the Trenton Art Institute. One was a thick padded envelope, and the other was a large portfolio box tied with twine. Both had Daniel’s apartment as the return address.

I was headed back out to the parking lot when I practically ran into Katie Summers, who was on her way into the Print & Ship with her own portfolio box.

“Hey,” she said. “Looks like we had the same idea today. Didn’t want to risk being rushed to get your application out on Friday, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, even though I still hadn’t started my own application yet. With the way my life was going lately, who knew what this Friday would entail, but I felt some relief knowing at least Daniel’s application had been taken care of.

It was the least I could do for him right now.

“I’m surprised you had time,” Katie said. “When I heard about your dad, and when you weren’t in school today, I just kind of figured…”

Was she admitting that she hoped my dad’s accident would keep me from turning in my application? Narrow the competition a bit? I couldn’t help scowling.

Katie bit her lip. “I mean … that came out wrong.” She shifted the portfolio box in her arms. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I should get going.” As I stepped around her, I couldn’t help thinking about how both her and Daniel’s applications would be sent out together in the same shipment to Trenton.

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