Page 33 of The Sandbar saga

She inhaled, her body shaking. Her dad had swallowed a lot of water when the Coast Guard found the body a week later. Her mother, dragging her into the room where they'd put her father after he was rescued from the ocean, had made her look.

She squeezed her eyes closed. The noxious smell in the room had filled her nostrils, making her sick to her stomach. How could they believe that the gray-skinned man on the table was her dad?

The swollen body had her dad's wedding ring on his finger.

"Focus on me, Katie," said Dr. C. "Daylight will break soon, and you'll be able to see. What will be outside waiting for you?"

She shook her head, refusing to answer.

"The bell in the building will signal first period. What class do you go to?" asked Dr. C.

She turned away from the window and laid on the mattress. "Language Arts," she whispered.

"Good, Katie." He breathed over the phone. "When you look out the window in Language Arts, what do you see?"

She always sat in the fourth row by the bookcase when the final bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. She turned her head toward the left and imagined seeing the high, narrow windows, the beam of daylight coming in lighting up the desks on that side of the room.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"There's always something, Katie. Look closely."

"The sky. Maybe a cloud. There's always a lot of gray clouds."

"Is it raining?"

She squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to see what he was seeing through everything she told him. "No, I don't think so."

"If it's not raining, what would you like to be doing?"

"Riding a bike." The vision of her black and purple mountain bike filled her thoughts. "I haven't ridden my bike since you took me riding on the path."

"Did you enjoy riding with me?"

She opened her eyes and sat up. "Do you remember the deer with the two baby fawns?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you ever see them anymore?" She hadn't thought of the deer in a long time.

"I've seen deer, but I don't know if she's the one I saw that year. I can't be sure, but I believe the fawns leave their mother when they're young. Probably to start their own family," he said.

"Like me," she whispered.

"Yes, like you."

"The next time you see a deer, will you take a picture and send it to me?" She pulled her blanket over her body and put her head on the pillow. "There's no deer here."

"I'll try. They spook easily."

"They won't be afraid of you. You're the nicest person in the whole world." She yawned. "I bet the momma deer comes every year. Next year, you can take another picture. We can compare them to see if they look the same."

"We can do that."

She rolled onto her back and lifted her head. The rain had stopped. There was no more lightning and thunder.

"I think the storm is over," she said.

"You should try and go back to sleep. You'll want to be alert and ready when school starts."