nineteen Back at the hotel, we leave the connecting doors open. Phoebe and Eric curl up together in a double bed in the boys’ room, and Oscar, Lucy, and I all squish together in one bed in the girls’ room. Finn ends up by himself in the bed next to ours. I feel bad he’s alone, but it would be too weird for me to crawl in next to him. Instead I lie on my side and surreptitiously watch him as he stares up at the ceiling in the dim light. The sun is just starting to come up. I guess I doze a little, because bright daylight is leaking around the edges of the curtains when I open my eyes again, and I can easily see that Finn is sitting up in bed, reading a text. “Who is it?” I ask, propping myself up on an elbow. “What is it? Is it news?” “It’s Hilary. Good news. Really good news. Lily’s conscious.” “Oh my god.” I sit up, and that wakes Lucy, who’s next to me. “What’s going on?” she says groggily. Oscar pops up next to her, instantly alert. “How’s Lily?”
