I'm glad for my week to start, forcing me to focus on essays, Spanish verbs and historical dates. Silas is supportive, seeing me quiet, and probably wondering if I'm okay, because I didn't respond to his texts on Sunday.

"Sorry," I say. "Yesterday was kind...hectic."

"Everything okay? You look kinda faraway."

I hesitate, but he doesn't buy my wave of the hand.

"Hey," he looks at me. Questioning.

"I just...I had a really messed up dream. About Jamie," I confess.

He reaches over and squeezes my hand. "Sometimes they feel too real, hey? Like the person is really there."

I nod, suddenly wondering how many of my friends have had or do have dreams about Jamie.

'It'll get easier. I promise," he says, concerned.

"I know," I reply quietly, adjusting my books.

"Walk you to class?" he smiles.

He walks me to English, stopping outside the door to kiss me.

"See you at lunch?"

"Sure," I nod, and turn to go into the classroom.

I go to the practice after school and meet Mom in her office.

"I've gotta run to the hospital, darlin'," she says, hurriedly grabbing her jacket and purse.

"Okay," I sigh. "I'll be here."

"Hey," she frowns, putting her other arm into her jacket and walking towards me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I shake my head. "Tired."

She stares at me, but I don't offer anything else.

"Really, Mom."

Not convinced, she still has to run. She kisses my cheek and rushes out. I dump my book bag on the couch and go to the kitchen, where Addison is concocting something green in the blender.

"Hey!" she smiles. "Want some?"

"Ooo, I would, except...I don't want to," I scrunch my nose.

"Hey, it's totally healthy."

"As were the snot and baby vomit I made in my own blender this morning," I reply sarcastically.

"I like you," she smiles approvingly. "You're quick."

"It's the fine breeding," I say, as Dad walks in.

"Who's breeding?" he demands, so on edge now when it comes to anything regarding sex.

"Hippos and elephants," I reply with a straight face as Addison pushes a bowl of almonds towards me. "They're gonna call them hippopelephants."

"Seriously?" he pauses while reaching for a water.

Addison and I just stare at him.

"Not seriously," he answers himself. "So, gorgeous daughter of mine. How was school?"

"I've decided to rethink my current path and revert to a Kerouac-esque lifestyle. Explore this vast country of ours."

"Over my cold, dead body," he smiles. I smile back.

"It was good. I got an A+ on that calc test."

"Nice," he holds up a hand. I high-five him and we do the exploding fist finish.

"Ugh," Addison makes a face. "Calculus. I hated calculus."

"As do I," I agree. "Which is why I beat it mercilessly."

"Your child is very combative, Cooper," she looks at Dad.

"Very beneficial on the paintball course," he replies, nodding.

"Have you ever delivered a Harlequin baby?" I ask.

"Interesting topic change," Addison frowns, confused. "And no." She sips her drink. "Thankfully."

"Do you know anyone who has? Or what about a thalidomide baby?"

"I thought I talked to you, like, six years ago about your choice of bedtime story?" she looks at Dad.

"She likes to read," he shrugs. "Who am I to quell such a hobby?"

She rolls her eyes. "One of my professors delivered a thalidomide baby. Truncated limbs...I saw a picture...looked like the baby had a thumb growing out of one of his feet, too."

"Have you ever seen someone with a parasitic twin?"

"No. Not very common here," she answers. She looks at me carefully. "You're going to end up specializing in diseases or abnormalities, aren't you."

It's more of a statement than a question.

"I'm still leaning towards ortho," I reply, sitting down when I realize I've been on my knees on the chair, leaning forward with interest. I shrug. "I've got time."

Dad leaves to see a patient, kissing my forehead as he leaves.

"So. How's that guy?" Addison smiles, raising her eyebrows.

"Muammar Gaddafi? I'm pretty they found him, dead."

"Uh...no," she frowns. "The one who stares at you like you invented beer, or skateboards, or whatever high school guys love. The one your dad Dad glares to himself about."

I laugh. "Silas."

"That's the one."

"He's good," I shrug.

"I see," she nods. "And when will you be telling your father that he's your boyfriend?"

I stare at her. Mom is the same way; she just knows things.

Addison smiles and nods, taking another drink.

I laugh, shaking my head.

"He's cute," she says. "I like his nerdy vibe."

"Yeah, he's cool. It's not really anything right now. Who knows, maybe it'll just blow over."

"Oh, he's eating right out of your hand, isn't he," she stares at me. She nods, looking at me with admiration and approval.

"Well played, sister."

The next day during break I go to the girl's room in the east wing. It's always empty and I just want to be alone for a few minutes. I've had terrible sleeps ever since Saturday and I'm starting to get cranky. I don't want to end up being bitchy to anyone, so I go into the bathroom and sit on the sink counter. I sigh, rubbing my forehead, exhaling slowly.

Mom was fussing over me this morning, saying I looked pale and should stay home, but I brushed her off, saying I couldn't miss my Spanish exam.

I bask in the silence until I hear a quiet sound, almost like a gurgle. Curious, I hop off the sink and bend over, peering at the floor of every stall. In the corner stall, there's a sweater bundled up and stuffed against the wall.

"Hello?" I say.

There's no reply so I gently push the stall door. It swings open. As I get closer to the sweater, my breath sharply intakes. There's blood all over the sweater, and there's a tiny hand visible.

I turn and look around be, but I am, of course, alone. My heart bangs loudly against my chest and I tell myself to just calm down and think. I get closer, reach down and gently pick up the bundle, terrified that what I heard were last breaths. I swallow, hard, and set the baby on the counter. I uncover the little face. It's pale. Not blue, but unnaturally pale. Whoever did this cut the cord, but I'm not sure what with.

I glance into the trash can beside the counter and, barely visible, I see part of a bloody purple mass: the placenta. Quickly, I grab my bag, cradle the baby and leave as fast as I can. Maybe I should call an ambulance, but my gut is telling me to run; to not risk waiting. The baby is totally the wrong color.

I hurry out a side door. No one sees me.

I rush to the parking lot and toss my bag into the backseat of my car. Carefully I lay my hoodie on the passenger seat, gently setting the baby, a little boy, on top. I don't remove the bloody fleece sweater he's wrapped in, afraid of making him feel colder for even a second. It's grossly hot out today, but I turn the heat on anyways, and drive as fast as I think I can get away with. I put my right hand on the baby's chest, making sure I can still feel a heartbeat, regardless of how weak it is.

I tap the screen on my console and tell it to call Dad.

"Hi, honey," he says after a couple rings.

"Dad! I need you, I'm driving to St. Ambrose and-are you there? At the hospital, I mean?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweetie, what's going on?"

"Is she okay?" I hear Mom demand in the background.

"I found a baby. He was in the bathroom, just lying on the floor, and wrapped in this sweater. Somebody just left him there! And he's pale, not pink, he's not pink at all, and I-" I try to breathe, but I'm terrified and juiced on adrenaline.

"Kati, honey, you need to breathe. Stay calm, concentrate on driving. We'll meet you at the hospital," he says calmly.

"Addison! Get Addison!"

"I will. We'll be there in five minutes."

"Okay," I reply, and end the call.

I put my hand back on the baby's chest, counting the beats until I reach St. Ambrose.

I pick up the baby and race inside, through Emergency. Mom, Dad and Addison hurry over.

"His heart rate's only 97," I gasp, as Addison reaches for him.

"He's so pale, not blue, is pale worse? I can't-"

"Sweetie, you did an amazing job. You need to let me take him, okay?" Addison gently tells me.

I realize I'm clutching the bundle tightly.

"I turned the heat on. I know it's hot out, but I didn't want him to be cold."

She gets him from my arms. "You did great, Kati." She turns and places him on a waiting gurney.

"Are you okay?" Dad asks, and I realize Mom is gripping my arm, staring at me.

I nod, breathing heavily. "Will you go? Will you make sure he doesn't..."

He kisses my forehead. "I'll go," he says, hurrying after Addison.

"Sit down, baby," Mom say, pushing me carefully down into a seat. "Take a deep breath."

"He was on the floor. In a bathroom!" I say, disbelief all over my face. "If I hadn't heard him...who can just leave a baby like that?" I shake my head, staring at nothing.

"I don't know, darlin'. But you did an incredible job. You managed to get him here, alive. You knew his heart rate...gonna make a fine doctor someday."

She rubs my back, looking proud and worried all at once.

"How do you do that everyday?"

"Every day is different, darlin'."

We sit for a few minutes until I'm not breathing erratically.

"Come on. I need some lunch," Mom says, and we start to walk towards the cafeteria.

"Can I see him? I mean, now?" I stop, looking at her. She considers.

I've obviously seen patients before, but never during anything. Addison says that when I'm 17 she'll sneak me in to watch a few surgeries.

'Won't be easy, sugar," Mom advises, but she won't treat me like a child, saying I can't see it.

"I know," I reply seriously.

She nods and leads me down a restricted hallway, her hand on my back.

We come to a procedure room and I see Dad, Addison and a couple of nurses working on the baby.

"What do you think she cut the cord with?" I ask, after a very deep breath. I can't falter-this is what I want to be.

"I'm not sure, sugar. Looks like it was clipped. Maybe torn."

I swallow and nod. Dad sees us and comes out.

"He's gonna be okay," he says. I sigh. "He's dehydrated and weak, but he's a little fighter."

Mom rubs my back.

"I have to call the police. They're going to want to talk to you, honey, so you'll have to hang around."

I nod.

"Why don't we go for lunch, sugar? You should eat," Mom says.

Dad promises to come find us after he makes some calls, so Mom and I go to the cafeteria and take lunch out to the patio area.

"Any idea whose baby it might be?"

I shake my head. "I've been pretty stuck in my own head," I reply. "I'm always in class, or in a book, or with my friends. And no one I know directly is-was, pregnant."

"Some girls can hide it well," he replies. "I wasn't really showing with you until five months. I mean, enough so that people would notice. Loose tops covered my belly. But you were so tiny. Barely five pounds," she smiles.

"Then why could you eat enough for three people?" Dad appears, grinning and pulling out a chair. He sets a sandwich and bottle of water down as Mom looks at him.

"I beg your pardon," she tries to look insulted, reaching over and smacking his shoulder.

"Ow," he laughs. "It's true! Where do you think Kati gets her appetite? Especially for pralines and fried chicken?"

"Mmm," I nod. "And Alabama Lane Cake."

"Oh, child, now you're talkin'," Mom smiles.

'How is he?" I ask Dad.

'Good. Stable," Dad nods. "Police are coming down, and I called the school. Dean Kim is all over it. She wants you to know she's proud of quickly you acted." He smiles. And after a second, he adds, "God, I'd hate to be on the wrong side of that woman."

"I like her," Mom replies.

"Of course you do. You're the same kind of scary." Dad says.

She rolls her eyes at him but can't hide her smile.

"He's going to end up in foster care, isn't he," I state.

"We can't say for sure, baby. Maybe the biological grandparents will step in."

"Yeah, right," I reply. "We all know that majority of Chadwick students come from extremely snobby stock."

"That's true," Dad agrees. "Terrifying PTA meetings..."

'Exactly. Not one of those Real Housewives wants her reputation soiled with a teenage mother for a child," I mutter.

"Whoa," Mom frowns. "Take it down a notch, Emily the Strange. Don't let this get you so down. On the bright side, he's a healthy newborn. Newborns are always the first to go, when it comes to adoption. I'm sure someone out there is just prayin' for that phone call to tell them that a baby is ready for 'em."

I consider this, and nod. Dad looks up and nods, holding up a hand to someone.

Mom and I look over and see two policemen being pointed towards us by a nurse.

Mom reaches over and squeezes my hand.

"Relax, baby. Just tell them what happened."

I nod and Dad stands up. He greets the men who then turn to Mom and I introduce themselves as Lieutenant Holland and Officer Radison.

"This is my wife, Dr. Freedman, and our daughter, Kate," Dad introduces. We shake their hands as Dad drags over an extra chair so they can both sit down.

"This must be a difficult day for you, Kate," Holland smiles kindly. He reminds me of Cranston, which helps me relax.

"Can you tell me what happened? In as much detail as possible?"

I take a breath. "Well, um, I was on break. I remember it was 10:44 because I checked my phone in case my parents had called. Uh...I went to the east wing girl's room because it's always empty, and I was tired. I just wanted to be alone and have it be quiet for a few minutes. I was sitting on the sink and I heard a sound, like a gurgle kind of, y'know? I bent down to look into each stall and I saw him. I mean, I saw the sweater he was wrapped in. I thought it was just a sweater, until I..." I swallow, my mouth getting dry. "I opened the stall door and saw his little hand. And blood all over the sweater. I just...I picked him up and I checked him, to see if he still had a cord attached, but it was cut. I'm not sure what they used, but it looked kind of jagged and I was scared it was getting infected. The, um, the placenta...it's still in the trash can. I saw part of it...Anyway, I wrapped him back up and I left. I ran to my car with him and came here. Maybe I should have called the police, but I just wanted to get him here. He was such a weird color, I thought he was going to die. I just wanted Addison to help him."

I swallow, realizing my eyes are glistening with unshed tears. Mom rubs my back.

"You did the right thing, Kate," he says somberly. "Normally, of course we'd say to call the police, but I think your quick actions may have saved that little boy."

He looks at Mom, nods. "Got yourself a smart girl there, ma'am," he says.

"I sure do," she smiles, brushing behind my ear.

"Dr. Montgomery said you kept him warm enough, monitored his heart rate as your drove here?" He shakes his head in disbelief. "I don't know many teenagers that could handle that. You gonna be a doctor like your parents?"

"That's the plan," I reply. "Someday."

"You've definitely got it in you," he says. "You should be proud."

I'm not sure what to say, so I don't say anything, and he seems to be okay with this.

He smiles in a fatherly way and gets up. He shakes hands with me and then Mom, and then finally Dad.

"You have my card," he says to all of us. "If we need you, Kate, we'll call. But feel free to let me know if there's anything else, okay?"

I nod, and he politely nods at all of us and they leave.