Batty didn't know what to make of Jeffrey's condition. Dr. Hawkins had said a lot of scary things, but right now, Jeffrey was smiling. Batty didn't like that the doctors had that he should be dead. He didn't fit that description. He looked so alive. Wounded, yes, but alive. She wished she hadn't given up on him. She felt guilty. She should have known he would come back to her. He always did.

The nurse had been absolutely horrified to find such a large group crowding around Jeffrey. She had quite adamantly ordered them all out. No one wanted to go. Skye hadn't left her spot next to Jeffrey. He still had his arm around her. It had been clear to Batty that the nurse had disapproved of that arrangement, but she hadn't had the heart to criticize them. Batty hadn't yet moved an inch. She couldn't stop staring at Jeffrey. She was afraid if she looked away, he would disappear again. He glanced over at her a lot, even when he was talking to someone else, just to give her a smile.

Mr. Penderwick was hovering as well, but the rest of the family had obeyed the order with many muttered complaints. The nurse waited impatiently for the remaining Penderwicks to follow suit.

"One moment, this won't take long," Mr. Penderwick told her. Neither Batty nor Skye made any such promise.

The nurse turned to Jeffrey. "You are a difficult patient, Mr. Tifton." She smiled nonetheless, already fond of him.

Jeffrey gagged. "I hate being called that."

"It means you're in trouble," said the nurse. "Rest. Try to make my job easy."

"I am, I'm resting. I promise," said Jeffrey. He lay down. "See? Resting."

The nurse gave him two thumbs up. "I'm guarding the door," she warned. "No more people in here." She left, then stuck her head back inside. "Drink your water." She shut the door again.

"Can you hand me that?" Jeffrey asked Skye, pointing to the water bottle next to her. She did, and he chugged down half of it and set it in his lap. Batty couldn't get over how hoarse he was. His voice was unrecognizable. He sounded nothing like himself.

Mr. Penderwick cleared his throat. "Jeffrey, if I may."

"Hm?" said Jeffrey. He'd been watching Skye, but now he focused his attention on Mr. Penderwick.

"I thought you should hear it from me. You too, Skye." He took off his glasses and twisted them between his fingers. "I lost my head this week. I don't like who I became. Worry was not an excuse."

Batty thought her father was about to be a little too honest.

"I said somethings that were inappropriate. Insensitive to say the least."

"Oh." Jeffrey laughed lightly. He had looked nervous, but now he seemed to be relieved. "You can stop there."

"What things?" Skye demanded.

"Can I guess?" Jeffrey asked. When Mr. Penderwick left him an opening, he said, "My stepfather…my house…my issue, right? You said Skye shouldn't have been taken. Just me."

Mr. Penderwick sighed and placed his glasses back on his nose. The lenses were smudged with fingerprints, but he didn't clean them. "I never blamed you, but still, I apologize."

"What?" Skye almost shouted it.

Jeffrey shushed her. "It's no problem. I said the same thing. A lot. Drove Skye crazy."

"For good reason," said Skye. "Daddy!"

"I am deeply sorry, Jeffrey," said Mr. Penderwick. "I hope you know that I do consider you a part of our family."

"Thank you, sir. I've always felt like it."

"I'm glad to see you back, son," said Mr. Penderwick.

"Me too," Jeffrey agreed. "It got a little dicey there for a second, but we're good."

"That is cause for much celebration." With that, Mr. Penderwick left.

"I can't believe he said that!" Skye seethed. She didn't even wait until the door had fully closed. Their father had to have heard her. Batty thought that might have been Skye's intention.

"Let it go," Jeffrey laughed. "He's right."

"Don't start," Skye warned him.

"I never really stopped," Jeffrey pointed out.

"That is wildly irritating."

"I tend to be."

Skye raised her fist like she was about to punch his shoulder. Batty stepped forward, ready to stop her, but she didn't have to. Skye caught herself.

Jeffrey noticed. "What, you're not going to hit me?"

Skye shook her head. "I made a promise to myself and I intend to keep it. I'm done hitting you."

"I think I'm going to miss that."

Skye pulled his face close to hers. "I guess I'll have to come up with something else to do instead," she whispered. She leaned in to kiss him. Jeffrey moved to meet her mouth, but hardly a second before he could, Skye leaped about a foot away from the bed. Jeffrey was so shocked he still reached for her.

"Something like that!"

"Oh come on," Jeffrey said with a frustrated laugh. He bit at his lip, then touched his hand to it and glanced down at his fingertips. He'd reopened one of the splits in his bottom lip. He rubbed the blood dry between his fingers.

Batty felt invisible. She was used to that around Skye. She thought her sister and Jeffrey were cute, but she couldn't shake the feeling that dating Skye would mean that Jeffrey would stop noticing her too. She started for the door, suddenly feeling like she might cry.

She needn't have worried.

"Batty wait," said Jeffrey. "Don't go."

"No, no. Please do," said Skye. "Bye."

Batty froze, confused.

"Can you give us a bit?" Jeffrey asked Skye.

Skye was appalled. "You're kicking me out?"

Jeffrey grinned. "Relax. I don't think Batty will hurt me any."

Skye glowered at her. "You better not."

Now Batty thought she might cry for an entirely different reason. Jeffrey always saw her. Maybe that wouldn't change. She allowed herself to hope, though Skye wasn't making it easy. Batty didn't blame her for that, not this time. She remembered how she had screamed and sobbed on the floor. If Jeffrey could bring that kind of emotion out of Skye, then he held a special sort of power over her. One that Batty had thought that no one ever would. It wasn't that Skye had a problem with her, it was that for now, she wanted Jeffrey to herself. That was okay. Especially because Jeffrey was asking for time with Batty anyway.

"Ten minutes," he said.

"My separation anxiety does not thank you for this."

"Never thought you'd be the clingy type," Jeffrey teased.

Skye's mouth dropped open.

"Kidding!" Jeffrey said quickly. "Love you."

Skye crossed her arms. "I think I'm done kissing you too."

Jeffrey snorted. "No you're not."

"Someone's cocky."

"I'm right."

She tried to hold onto her fierce glare, but it failed her, and she laughed. "Yeah, you are. I'm so not."

She leaned over him and Jeffrey laced his hands behind her head.

"There," he said. "Now you can't pull away again."

"I wasn't going to."

"Liar."

"I love how well you know me." She kissed him, and Batty smiled. Skye was at long last, finally done being stupid.

When she made it to the door, Jeffrey said, "Skye? Don't go far, okay?"

Skye smirked. "Not the only clingy one, am I?"

"Back in ten?"

"Back in five," Skye promised. She shut the door behind her.

Batty stepped closer to Jeffrey, then sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you okay?" She'd asked Skye same thing. She had felt ridiculous then too.

"Honestly?" said Jeffrey. "I'm great. Screwed up, of course, but great."

"I didn't think I'd see you again," Batty admitted. "I decided you were dead. I'm sorry."

"If I'd had my way, I would be." Jeffrey took another sip of water. "I guess we can thank Dexter for that. I don't think he actually had it in him to kill. He talked a big game, but he kept putting it off." He closed the fingers of his left hand over his palm and studied his exposed, torn nailbeds. "Which is funny. Murder isn't half as sick as what he did."

Batty started to cry.

Jeffrey squeezed her shoulder, then grimaced. That must have hurt his broken wrist. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Batty sniffled. Another tear tickled her face.

"Enough about that," Jeffrey decided. "Dexter who, right?"

"Right." Batty wiped her eyes. "How are you—can you still play piano?" This was a deeply rooted concern for Batty.

Jeffrey eyed the plaster cast encasing his wrist with distaste. "Now? No. But I can come back from a broken wrist. People do it all the time."

It seemed like such a long way away. How would he manage it? Batty could never. Music was her fortitude. Jeffrey relied on it for everything, just as she did. He needed it at a time like this.

"I played your song," she said. "You left the sheet music at the piano."

Jeffrey's face lit up. "Did you? What did you think?"

"It was hard," Batty admitted. "I could barely do it, but I loved it."

His eyes shone with pride. "It's taken me almost a month to write, I was really challenging myself. I wanted it to mean something."

Batty thought it was incredible that Jeffrey could still be moved by her compliments, as if he didn't already know he was a genius. Batty remembered Alec saying that the song was about Mrs. Tifton. She thought that Jeffrey had conveyed that quite well, professionally so. Broken wrist or not, he was going to go far. Of that, she was certain. She only hoped to be half as gifted as he was one day.

"Maybe you can help me finish it," Jeffrey suggested. He glared at both of his wrists. "I need someone with working hands."

Batty wasn't sure she was skilled enough for that, but she was willing to try. For Jeffrey. "I'd like that."

The idea seemed to comfort Jeffrey. So he couldn't play at the moment. That was okay. He could still write music; he just needed a little assistance. Batty longed to give it to him. She wished she could transport a piano right there into the hospital room. A little one would do, but alas that was no more possible than a full grand piano. She would have to wait.

"Do you have any updates about your vocal competition?" asked Jeffrey. "It's what, three weeks away now?"

Batty had forgotten all about the Josh Howard Vocal Competition. "I don't think I'm doing it anymore."

Jeffrey looked horrified. "You have to! You were so excited."

Nervous was more like it. She had barely discovered that she could sing, competing already seemed foolish. Jeffrey had only just managed to convince her to enter, and then he'd gone missing. It was like a sign from the heavens that she was not meant to perform. Or perhaps a warning from hell.

"I can't," Batty insisted. She was more certain of that the longer that she thought about it. "It doesn't feel right. I can't think about that now."

"Because of me?"

Batty nodded. And Skye. Her sister would not rely on Batty to support her, but Batty was still there for her. Despite the fact that she was probably last on Skye's list, maybe even lower than Mrs. Tifton, though Batty couldn't be sure. That relationship was about to take an interesting turn, that much was clear. Whether it would be good or bad had yet to be determined. If the hug Mrs. Tifton had given Skye had meant anything, it was that Jeffrey's mother was intent on making it a good one. Batty hoped that Skye would at least be open to the possibility.

"That's exactly why you have to," said Jeffrey. He was a lot more confident about that than Batty was. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Batty was struck by how tired he looked. She didn't know why that surprised her. Five days of hell would drain anyone. Five whole days and one additional night. He was beyond exhausted.

"Do it for me," Jeffrey pleaded. He put his heart and soul behind that request. He had always been her biggest supporter, surpassing even her father and Rosalind, but this was personal. He really did mean for him. "Batty, I don't want all of you worrying and putting your lives on hold because you're waiting on me. It makes me feel damaged."

She wanted to say, "you are," but she thought better of it. She resisted the urge to scan her gaze over all of his injuries. She didn't have to look to know they were there.

"Treat me normally, that's all I want," said Jeffrey. "I'm tired of being a victim. Please, do the competition. Give me something else to focus on."

She couldn't tell him no, not after that. "I don't even know what to sing," she said. She supposed she was willing if it would help him, but she wasn't exactly warming up to the idea.

"Did you listen to Crossroads? That Tracy Chapman album I gave you?" Jeffrey asked.

Naturally, he would have an instant idea. Jeffrey knew how to get her out of every one of her musical ruts. She had listened to that record nonstop for several days. Tracy Chapman's voice was so deep and sultry, Batty couldn't get enough of it. To sing with such raw emotion and vulnerability was more than a dream for her. It was a fantasy.

"What about something off of that?" Jeffrey suggested. "You sing best in the key of C, right?"

She did. Definitely.

""A Hundred Years," maybe?"

The idea came so easily to him. He was a wizard. Batty had spent hours combing through her records in search for the perfect song, and she had come up with nothing. She'd never even considered Tracy Chapman. Jeffrey had come up with that in seconds. Of course, he could readily maneuver around her endless sea of insecurities. Batty had yet to develop that talent. She would love to sing "A Hundred Years," that is, if she could perform it without butchering the work of such a melodious goddess. That was the million dollar question Jeffrey was ignoring.

"I don't know if my voice is strong enough for that," she told him.

"Sing it for me, I'll tell you."

Batty took a deep breath as nerves rose up in her chest. Even in front of Jeffrey, she got a little performance anxiety. Who was she kidding? Competing? She'd pass out on stage.

"Baby, sweet baby, won't you please

Come on back home to me

I've been so lonely

These few days feel like a hundred years"

Jeffrey listened to her intently with his fingers resting pensively over his mouth. A smile peeked out from behind his hand. Batty was encouraged. She sang the first part of the chorus.

"How you make me worry baby

How you make me worry about you

Here I am I'm knowing

That I can't live without you"

Jeffrey dropped his hand so that his smile was on full display for her. "Practice that for the next few weeks and you'll win."

He was so sure of that, it boosted Batty's confidence a little. To be sure, he was biased. She wouldn't win, but she was fine with that. As long as she didn't make a fool of herself, she would be happy, maybe even proud.

Before that, however, there was another underlying issue that had to be dealt with. "They might not even let me compete. I was supposed to meet with them on Saturday, but I didn't show. I didn't even call."

Jeffrey didn't seem too concerned. "You had other stuff to worry about. They'll understand."

He said that so casually, "other stuff" didn't seem to refer to his disappearance, though needless to say, it did. On Saturday, Dexter had called. The vocal competition had flown from Batty's memory, never to return. If Jeffrey hadn't mentioned it, it probably would have been months before one of the Penderwicks (likely Jane) would have remembered and suggested that she enter again the next year.

"I guess I could call and ask," said Batty. She hated that idea. Nothing made her anxious quite like talking on the phone, especially to adults.

"Go see if you can borrow a phone from one of my parents," said Jeffrey.

Batty got up from the bed and willed her hands to stop shaking. She hoped Alec was there. Mrs. Tifton still frightened her. Batty poked her head outside to ask. The first person she noticed was Skye. She really hadn't gone far. She was sitting in a chair directly beside the door. She hugged her legs to her chest. She glanced at Batty, then fixed her gaze back on the floor. Her face was streaked with tears. Moments ago, she had been so at ease, close to true happiness. Being separated from Jeffrey by only a single wall had flipped the suffering switch inside of her and brought all of it back. It was almost enough for Batty to tell her to go inside to be with him. Almost. She allowed herself a few more minutes of selfishness.

Blessedly, Alec was there. He did not frighten her, although he was deep in conversation with Mrs. Tifton and Iantha, and interrupting them did. The rest of the group had wandered off to heaven's knew where.

"Excuse me?" Batty said meekly. She hoped they wouldn't find her intrusion too rude. She did her best not to be.

The three adults stopped talking and looked at her.

"Jeffrey is asking for your phone."

Alec fished it from his pocket and handed it to her without asking why. "How is he?"

"The same. He says he's great."

Alec smiled a little and rubbed his hand across his forehead. He looked nearly as tired as Jeffrey. "He's a trooper."

"Will you hurry up?" said Skye. Batty knew that Skye had intended that to be ferocious and intimidating, but it wasn't. She was begging her. Batty promised that she would.

Her legs were wobbly as she walked back to Jeffrey. Her palm was so sweaty that Alec's phone nearly slipped from her hand. She told herself to grow up and stop being a coward.

"You want me to call them now?" She clarified. Her dread was still firmly intact.

"Don't worry," he said, noticing her nerves. It would be impossible for him not to. "I'll do it."

"Really?" Batty was immeasurably relieved.

Jeffrey held out his hand and Batty placed the cell phone in his open palm. "Yikes," he said, staring at the shattered screen with raised eyebrows. He flicked a loose piece of glass away with his thumb. "But yeah. I got kidnapped, they can't tell me no. And I sound awful. Bonus."

That was a weirdly positive spin on things. Jeffrey was nothing if not optimistic. Batty was happy to see that hadn't been completely taken away from him.

He looked up the director's contact information and dialed the number. He put the call on speaker to allow Batty to listen. The woman answered after the third ring.

"This is Amelia Rose."

Jeffrey lay back and set the phone on his chest. "Hi, you're the director of the Josh Howard Vocal Competition, right?"

"That's correct. I am."

"My name is Jeffrey Tifton. I'm calling on behalf of Elizabeth Penderwick."

Somehow, Batty was still anxious, despite not being the one speaking.

"Jeffrey Tifton…" Amelia Rose paused while she tried to place the name. Batty knew when she had. There was a noticeable shift in her tone. "Wow, hello. What can I do for you?"

"This might sound silly, but I wanted to call to make sure Elizabeth can still participate. I know she missed a mandatory meeting, and she's too sweet to ask, but I'm hoping you can make an exception for her."

Too shy, not sweet. Batty liked sweet better, even if it was a white lie.

"There was a lot going on, with me and her sister going missing and everything. I think it would help all of us to have something fun to look forward to."

Jeffrey smiled, amused with himself, and winked at Batty. He really was milking that for all it was worth, and he wasn't being subtle about it.

"It's so kind of you to call. You're a sweetheart," said Amelia Rose. "I completely understand. Of course she can participate it. We would be delighted to have her."

"That's great! Thank you so much."

"Sure, darling. And maybe it's not my place, but I was so happy to hear you both returned safely. I'm sorry that happened to you. I hope we'll see you at the competition."

"Thank you. You will. Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too. Tell Elizabeth we'll call her soon, alright? Bye-bye."

Jeffrey hung up and dropped the cell phone beside him on the bed. "And that's how it's done."

"I don't know how you can do that," said Batty, a little in awe of him for being so responsible and adult-like. "I hate phones."

"Don't be fooled, they terrify me," said Jeffrey. "My heart is racing. That was kind of a rush."

He held Batty's hand over his chest to prove it to her. He wasn't lying. That made her feel a little better about herself. She supposed her fears weren't completely crazy. Jeffrey would have to teach her how to hide them so well. She never would have guessed he'd been nervous.

"You know, you've really cheered me up," said Jeffrey. "Thanks."

Batty could feel herself glowing. He seriously was the single greatest person to ever walk the earth. Except for maybe Jesus or Gandhi. Maybe Mozart. She kind of worshipped him, and she wasn't even embarrassed to admit it.

She so wished she could stay there with him, happy and comfortable until she died, but of course, something would come along to ruin that for her. This time, "something" ended up being the sound of Skye shouting curses from the hallway. Jeffrey and Batty looked at each other. She sighed. Her sister could be such a killjoy.