The hospital makes Henry stay for two days. Gretchen drags me home in the old Cadillac that used to come out only for Sunday drives. She cooks meals and takes them the Henry, but I'm forced to stay home. Jack at least, makes for good company. He doesn't boss me around or tell me to clean something or call me Misfit. Most of the time he just sits with me in the kitchen where the sun shines onto the floor and I pet him. Occasionally I'll put on a hoodie and we'll walk to the barn and feed the sheep. Jack watches them intently, but their already in a pen and there is no need for him to herd and chase them. So to get his energy out I throw an old ball in the field for him. I make sure I through it down a hill so it take more energy for him to bring it back.

There's been no sign of Missy. We think she might've fallen into the river and been swept away, but there's a part of me that can't be sorry for it. She didn't like me anyway, I'm just glad Jack is alright. When my fingers are cold and wet with dog slobber we head back to the house. I warm up a plate of food that Gretchen left for me and pour a few cups of food into Jack's bowl. We eat together in silence, and when I eat my fill I put the plate on the ground and let Jack have the rest. Gretchen would blow a blood vessel if she saw it. I smile and clean my dishes and put them away in their proper place. Wow that was so hard Gretchen, I'm so glad you never made me to that before.

 Jack follows me to the hallway and I pick up the phone and call Trish. I sit on the stairs and Jack lies down next to me so I can pet him easily with my free hand. The phone is picked up on the second ring. It's not who I'm hoping for.

"Hello?"

                "Can I talk to Trish please?"

                There's a snicker and through the phone I hear a door close, which means from where the phone is situated, he's gone into the coat room for some privacy. I'm tempted to hang up. "Nice of you to call."

                "Just give the phone to Trish."

                "Ask me nicely."

                "Please."

                "No." 

                "Fine, Bye."

                "Wait, I heard about Henry. I'm sorry."

                "Whatever."

                "Hey listen, just because you're a freak doesn't mean I want anything bad to happen to Henry or Gretchen, they're good people. Just make sure you don't do something stupid to kill them."

                "I-am-not-a-Misfit."

                "Whatever you say...have you given any thought to my offer?"

                "You can stick up a piece of ice for all I care."

                "Is that an invite?"

                "JUST PUT TRISH ON THE FUCKING PHONE!" I yell through the receiver. Jack lifts his head and growls at my distress. I wish Tyler were standing here, I'd tell Jack to rip him to shreds.

                "Um, yea, hi?" It's Trish's voice.

                "Oh...hi...sorry...when did you get here?"

                "Just now, Tyler handed me the phone. Here give me second, I'll switch to the cordless and go upstairs." A few seconds later Trish is back. "Can you hear me?"

                "Loud and clear."

                "Sweet, so what's up?"

                Well I'm some sort of water filtering freak who can swim across flooded rivers and save men from sinking trucks. "Nothing, I'm just bored. Gretchen is at the hospital with Henry and I'm stuck here watching the house."

                "Ouch, want me to come over? Tyler can drop me off."

                "I don't think-"

                "We'll pick up Rag too! It'll be fun, see you in like ten minutes OK?" She hangs up, darn Trish, why must she be so kind? I don't think I can lie to my friends face, but being alone doesn't sound good either, so I don't call her back to tell her no. Instead I put the phone back in its cradle and go to the kitchen. I climb onto the counter and pull down a pack of cookies that Gretchen keeps for guests.

                And almost exactly ten minutes later, there's a knock at the door. "Come on in!" I shout and finish putting cookies on the plate. Jack barks and runs out of the kitchen. I follow shortly after. "I've got cookies on the table if you guys...what are you doing here?" Tyler closes the door behind him as Trish and Rag hang their coats up and take off their shoes.

                "I'm their ride."

                "You could come back when we're done."

                "I'm not wasting gas."

                "It's OK Adie, Tyler's cool."

                Tyler smirks at me from behind his sister. "Come Jack." Jack stays at my heel and we go to the kitchen. I give everyone a glass of milk and we sit around the table.

                "It's weird being here with Gretchen and Henry." Trish says.

                "She'll be back around nine she said, she likes to stay with Henry till he falls asleep. But he should be coming home tomorrow. So it's short lived."

                "That's good." Trish says, "About Henry I mean."

                A foot rubs against my leg and I jerk, my knee banging into the table and making everyone's milk shake. "What was that?" Rag asks.

                I grimace and rub my knees, "Sorry, that was me, Jack put his wet nose against my leg and it scared me."  I look under the table, Jack is asleep, and Tyler's foot is still close. I glare at him from across the table and he just chews on a cookie, his eyes amused. Rag and Trish start talking about something when Tyler's foot finds my leg again. I don't jerk back but this time I lock eyes with him as he take a sip of milk.  I hope you choke you pervert.

                Tyler starts coughing.

                My face pales.

                His goes red.     

                Oh crap.

                "Go down the wrong pipe there Tyler?" Rag asks jokingly but Tyler stands up, still choking and Trish's eyes widen.

                "Tyler?"

                He shakes his head and points to his throat. Rag and Trish both jump to their feet and start hitting his back frantically. They're talking and yelling and trying to help Tyler while I just sit in my chair watching him. He's griping the table while Trish and Rag pound on his back. His eyes lock to mine and I narrow my eyes. His own widen with fear, "Dude, breathe."I say. And he does.

                "Oh my God I was so scared!" Trish cries with relief.

Tyler clears his throat and coughs. "The milk was like....stuck in my throat." Trish hits her brother like it's his fault. He's still looking at me. I'm still looking at him. He jumps back from the table, his face goes white. I cross my arms and smirk, and he skirts around the kitchen, keeping his eyes one me at all times.

                "I'm going to come back and pick you up. Just call me when you want to come home Trish." He flees from the kitchen and a moment later the front door slams. Jacks head jerks up and he looks around. But when he sees nothing exciting he puts his head back between his paws and lets out a content sigh.

                "That was weird."

                "Really weird." I agree with Rag and eat another cookie, "Come on guys, help yourself, these cookies need to be gone."

                "Why are you so happy?" Trish asks.

                "Why do you say I'm happy?"

                "I don't know."

                "Well, it's been a pretty good day."

                Henry comes home the next day on crutches. Gretchen holds the door open for him and I stand on the steps and greet him with a smile. "Welcome home."

                "Thank kid, feels good to be home."

                Gretchen stiffens, "She's not a kid Henry. She's eighteen, and soon she'll have her interview and she'll be gone." She looks at me and then walks to the kitchen to get a lunch together for Henry. He looks at me apologetically and I shrug.

                "I'm used to it."

                "I know." He says.

                "Can I help you up the steps?"

                "Sure."

                Henry is heavier than he looks. With one hand on the banister he puts his other arm over my shoulder while I carry the crutches. It's a very slow process, but Henry says he won't have to go up and down the stairs for a while. He talked to Mr. Melberry about taking care of the sheep for him.

                "Lucky you, it's like a vacation." I say when we reach the top.

                "This house is never like a vacation." We both laugh and I give him his crutches back and I open his bedroom door and make sure he gets situated. I get a small pillow and prop his leg up.

                "You feel ok?"

                He nods, "What about you? How are you handling everything?"

                I sit down on the edge of the bed and shrug. "I haven't really thought about it...but I think I might have accidentally made Trish's brother choke on a glass of milk last night."

                "You can do that?" I shrug again and to Henry's credit, he smiles and says, "Well I'm sure he deserved it." I smile and in that moment when we look at each other, we share an understanding. He won't judge me and I'll just keep moving forward. Together, we'll deal with what comes. It feels good to have an ally, and I'm surprised I never saw Henry like this sooner.

                Jack comes into the room and places a head on my knee and whines to Henry. "He's always liked you." Henry reaches over and strokes Jack behind the ears.

                "I'm sorry about Missy."

                Henry shrugs, "She might turn up, but even so, I won't be herding sheep for a while and Jack is well trained enough to handle the job. I'll get another dog. I'm just happy to be alive."

                "Still...I'm sorry. She wasn't a bad dog, she didn't deserve to die."

                He nods in agreement and Gretchen comes up with a toasted sandwich and kettle cooked potato chips and some homemade juice on a tray. I take my leave and Jack follows me out the door. I'm not sure why Jack and I are so close all of the sudden. He's never been loyal to me, he's always followed Henry, but even since the accident it's like we can't be apart. I touch his black and white fur and smile. I've never had my own pet, maybe for now I'll have the luxury of pretending that he's mine.

                I pick up the old ball and Jack wages his tail, "Come on."He barks and together we escape out the backdoor. Ever since the storm the sky has been brilliantly blue, not a single trace of cloud or rain. The river slowly dropped and Henry is already planning on how to build another bridge, a better one this time.

                "Fetch!" I tell Jack and pull my arm back and hurtle the ball as far as I can toss it. I stuff my hands into the pouch of my hoodie and watch Jack run with precision and intense concentration. I love it whenever Henry let me watch him bring the sheep in. The dogs and Henry understood what they needed from each other and the way they got the sheep to move always fascinated me. Jack goes after the ball with the same sort of concentration.

                He brings it back and drops it at my feet. I pick it up and throw it, but Jack doesn't go for it. "Hey now, that's not fair. You can't let me throw it if you aren't going to go get it." I point down the hill but Jack isn't looking or listening to me. His ears are perked forwards and his nose is sniffing the air. He's looking back at the house across the field.

                I turn and look but don't see anything out of the ordinary. "What is it Jack?" His eyes don't move but a small chesty growl crawls out of his stomach. I kneel next to him and keep my eyes on the house where he's looking. There is smoke coming from the chimney, which means its gotten cold enough for Gretchen to finally start a fire. The wind is blowing into my face so I can smell the smoke from here, but I don't have a nose like a dog, so I can't tell if something is wrong of if Jack's spotted a rabbit.

                I sigh and stand up. "So you're not getting the ball?" He doesn't respond, "Fine, I'm leaving it out here then." I head back towards the house and Jack lopes along next to me. I wipe my feet off on the back mat and push the back door open. Jack starts to growl.

                "Oh here she is." Gretchen puts down her cup of tea and stands up from the table. I pause in the doorway. The cool outside air pushes its way inside, stirring the settled heat of the house. I take a step back, I'm not sure why I do it but my entire body is telling me to turn and run. There are two strangers sitting at the kitchen table, a male and a female.

                When they see me step back, they both stand from the table, so I stop. "Adie?" The male asks, giving me a quick look over with calculated eyes. I swallow and find my mouth is very dry.

                "Yes."

                "Don't be so rude Adie!" Gretchen scolds, looking exasperated, "This is Mr. Handler, and Mrs. Handler. You will treat them with respect. They are here for your interview." I don't take my eyes off the strangers, they haven't sat down, and the male has his hand on his jacket where there is an unnatural bulge under his coat. As much as I want to flee, I must be rational. I knew this day was coming.

                So I take a step forward and close the door. They both seem to relax and the male lets his hand drop, Jack is still standing next to me, sniffing the air. I take off my shoes. "Shall we take this to a more, relaxed setting?" The female suggests.

                "The living room would be nice, there is a fire going and I'll bring in some tea and biscuits."

                "Thank you, please lead the way Adie." The female raises her hand, gesturing for me to go first down the hall. I swallow again, and look at Gretchen.     

                "I'd like some water too, please." She nods and I look to the strangers. They give each other a strange look so I step around them and walk to the living room. I look down at my jeans and hoodie and wish I were wearing something a little nicer. Even to comb my hair and wash my face would be been nice, I wouldn't look like such a rag doll. I wouldn't look so guilty.

                You're not guilty of anything. They're just here to make sure you don't have a virus that could potentially kill you.

                I sit down in the chair and they sit down on opposite ends of the sofa. Despite having the same last name they don't have rings on their fingers or act like they even love each other. I entwine my fingers and focus on keeping my toe from tapping nervously. The fire pops and the room is silent until Gretchen brings in the tea and biscuits. "Sorry that took longer than expected. Jack tried to swipe the biscuits." She puts the tray on the coffee table between us, I reach out and take the glass of water and drink the entire thing. My throat isn't as dry. Gretchen hands out tea to everyone and I take my gladly, then she goes to sit down but Mrs. Handler clears her throat.

                "I'm so sorry if we gave the wrong impression Mrs. O'brien, but this interview will be a private one between us and Adie."

                Gretchen flushes with embarrassment and I can't help but smirk. No one's even talked to Gretchen that way before, I almost want to like Mrs. Handler, but I know it will be short lived. These people are not my friends. Gretchen apologizes five times before she closes the door behind her, leaving us alone. I take two sips of my tea and place it onto the table, trying to look civilized in my muddy hems.

                "So Adie, as you know this interview is for the sole purpose to see if you are a carrier of the virus." Mrs. Handler smiles and pushes back a length of hair that's come out of her bun. She's got blonde hair and they both wear black high class business suites.

                I nod already feeling nervous enough to pee my pants. Maybe drinking all that water was a bad idea. Am I allowed to go use the bathroom?

                "Good." Mrs. Handler nods once, "I see that you're a very smart girl so I shouldn't have to remind you that lying to us...well it's not wise."

                I nod again.

                "Well then let's get started. Tell us about a few days ago Adie, when you went cliff diving with your friends."

                I frown, "What does that have to do with whether I have a virus?"

                Mr. Handler's eyes narrow, "You will answer our questions without any of your own Adie. We've taken the liberty of asking and investigating around town about you. So please, indulge us. This is all a part of the process."

                "What about diving?" I ask.

                 "Don't look so nervous. Two paramedics told us they were called out to the cliffs for a possible drowned missing persons. But when they arrived, you were there with your two friends, cold and wet, but alive. Tell us what happened."

                I take a deep breath and make sure I look them both in the eye on a regular basis. "Rag took me and my friend Trish to the cliffs to go jumping. But when we actually got there I was going to chicken out, so Rag pushed me. I hit the water wrong and I passed out. The next thing I remember I'm washed up on the shore a half mile down puking water out of my stomach and lungs."

                "You don't remember anything?" Mr. Handler asks, there's a hint to his voice that suggests he doesn't believe me. I look him in the eye.

                "It was black." There's actually some truth to that statement, just not the whole truth.

                "The same paramedics say they got a call about a man in danger when the river flooded a couple days ago. They say when they arrived with the rescue party you were there also. What happened then?"

                My hands tighten, "My guardian, Henry was trapped on the other side of the river, so yes, I was there."

                Mrs. Handler sips at her tea and leans back against the couch, "Yes about that." She sips again, "We talked with Mr. Melberry, your neighbor. He says you showed up to his house late that night soaking wet without a jacket saying that Henry was in danger. So you were the one who found him then?"

                "Yes."

                "Extraordinary, how did you find him?"

                "The storm woke me up, and I looked out my window to see it. I noticed that Henry's truck wasn't parked in its spot. So I went downstairs, and that's when I saw the dogs weren't in their beds either. So I got dressed and went out to the barn, thinking that he might be down there with sheep or something. But he wasn't, the herds were there, but Henry wasn't. I knew he had to go back for his truck in the upper pasture, so I decided to walk to make sure he hadn't gotten stuck or something. But when I got to the river the bridge was gone and the river was flooded. I heard Henry yelling for help. So I ran and got Mr. Melberry and he phoned the police."

                "And Henry's truck?"

                "What about it?"

                "Well it was found washed up along the bank over a mile downriver. Both windows broken and the passenger side door was nearly knocked off its hinges. They say that Henry would have had to climb out and swim or pull himself to safety. And he had a broken leg, can you explain that?"

                I open my mouth, but Henry's voice fills the room. "Adrenaline is an amazing thing ma'am." Both me and Mrs. Handler jump slightly, Mr. Handler just turns. Henry is standing in the open door. I hadn't even heard the door open. "I'm sorry for interrupting, I've just woke from a nap, and I thought there were random strangers in my house."

                "No, no of course it's fine." Mrs. Handler sets down her tea and wipes at a wet spot on her jacket. Mr. Handler stands up and goes to Henry, offering his hand.

                "We're just here to conduct Adie's interview. I'm Mr. Handler, and this is Mrs. Handler."

                Henry shakes his hand, "I didn't know the interview involved interrogation. I thought you simple saw if she was infected or not."

                Mr. Handler smiles stiffly, "It's a complicated process, and a private one."

                "Well seeing how you were just asking about me I think this involves me. He moves into the room, the crutches click on the floor. Mr. Handler opens his mouth to object but Henry cuts him off, "Now ask your questions and I'll leave, but so long as they concern me I think my daughter shouldn't have to defend herself."

                I open my mouth in amazement and stare at Henry. He looks at me and smiles. He just called me his daughter. Tears prick my eyes. I've never been called anyone's daughter before. "She's not your daughter." Mrs. Handler corrects him and I glare at her, but she doesn't notice. They are both looking at Henry like he's a nuisance.

                "No? I'm pretty sure I signed the adoption forms."

                "She was placed under your care under the temporary misfit adoption act, yes. But she is not your daughter, she has no family ties, nor does she inherit anything." Mrs. Handler argues, she's right of course. I'm simply borrowed property, a pay check.

                Henry smirks, "Oh, you assume that I speak on legal terms. See, I don't believe one has t be related to be considered a daughter."

                "You may not, but the government doesn't care how you see her, it's what's on paper that matters. And Adie is eighteen, which means she will no longer be under your care." Mr. Handler pulls out a check from within his jacket and holds it out to Henry. "You're last installment; we appreciate what you've done for the government. Adie is better off after living in this house I'm sure."

                "You were asking about the river I believe." He doesn't take the check.

                Mr. Handler frowns, "Yes, how did you get out of your truck with a broken leg?" He remains standing, as if it will get Henry out of this room faster, but I don't want him to go anywhere. I want him to call me his daughter again.

                "It's like I said, adrenaline, I thought I was going to die and I guess my body fought against that notion. I go to the bank and collapsed and was yelling for help. I thought that was pointless too, but by some miracle Adie showed up, heard me, and went for help."

                "Fascinating, well thank you for clearing that up, you may go now. The rest of this interview will be conducted in privacy."

                "No more questions that don't actually concern Adie?"

                "I promise." Mr. Handler says and motions to the open door. Henry gives me a look and I smile at him, telling him it's OK.

                Henry goes to the door when Gretchen shows up, "Henry!" She says surprised, "I thought I heard your voice, what are you doing down here and out of bed?"         

                "I heard voices, why didn't you tell me we had guests."

                Gretchen hesitates for her words, "You needed your rest.  I didn't want to wake you."

                Henry snorts and navigates past her. She apologizes again and closes the door.

                "Interesting couple." Mr. Handler sits down and puts the check on the coffee table. I can't help but wonder how much it's for.

                "Well we really only have one more question Adie." Mrs. Handler says.

                "OK, what is it?"

                "We're you responsible for choking Tyler Reamey?"

                I feel my face whiten. "Excuse me?" I whisper?

                "Tyler Reamey says that he came over here. You were aggressive and next thing he knows the milk froze in his throat, causing him to choke. He says while this was going on you sat calmly in your chair and smirked at him, and then you told him to breathe and the milk went down. Did you cause this?"

                "Are you kidding me?" I force a laugh, "Do you realize how insane that sounds? I don't have some milk controlling ability. I wish I did, Tyler is a pervert and has made inappropriate moves towards me just because I'm an orphan he thinks he can treat me differently." I force a laugh that's supposed to sound angry, but it sounds nervous, even to my ears. My heart is pounding and my palms are sweating.

                "Well I don't have any more questions for you Adie." She pulls out a small device from her pocket and flips it open, "Can you hold out your wrist?"

                "What's that for?"

                "It's to scan your blood for traces of the virus. This determines whether or not you're in any danger, or will be a danger to others." I swallow and pull back the sleeve of my hoodie.

                "Why eighteen?" I ask.

                "What do you mean?" Mr. Handler asks.

                "Why wait to scan for a deadly virus until eighteen? Why not sooner?"

                Mrs. Handler smiles at me, "The virus lays dormant for a long time, we found that we can only reliably test for it around eighteen." She presses the device to my wrist and there is a small prick against my skin. I inhale sharply with surprise. The machine beeps.

                "How does the virus kill exactly?" I ask just so I don't have to wait in silence for the machines findings.

                "It infects the brain until the person is driven into insanity. It's very violent." Mrs. Handler is staring intently at the machine while she speaks. Mr. Handler is close by but his eyes go back and forth from me and the machine. His hair is cut short and there are bits of while above his ears. I'm surprised at how blue his eyes are, and how aggressive they seem.

                The machine gives out a long beep and she pulls the machine off my skin. There is a growing welt of blood where the machine pricked me. They both look at the machine, and then look at me. They don't have to open their mouths to tell me what I already know.

                I can see the machine from here, the screen has gone red.

                I'm a Misfit.