Chapter 8
I open my eyes to the feeling of warm sunlight on my face. I smile for a moment as I hear the birds chirp outside.
And then I remember.
"Philip!" I exclaim, sitting bolt-upright. Some time in the night, I had fallen asleep. I look around the room.
"Miranda?" I ask nervously. Where is she? I remember that she was sitting on my bed with me last night, but now, I can't see her anywhere.
"Kay?" comes a voice from below. I peer off the edge of my cot. Miranda is curled up on the floor, waking up. She stretches and yawns, then freezes.
"Oh my gosh," she realizes. "Philip."
We both leap to our feet, stumbling to the door. I rush to the stairs and bolt down them, Miranda at my heels. We enter the living room, skidding to a halt.
Dr. Jacob is gone. Alexander and Eliza are turned away from us, staring at the couch, arms around each other.
"Mr. Hamilton?" I ask softly. "Eliza?"
They turn to face us. When I see Eliza's face, streaked in tears, my stomach sinks. But then her eyes crinkle as she smiles.
"He survived," she breathes. "He's alive!"
"Mom?" comes a weak voice from the couch. "Who are you talking to?"
They step out of the way and we see Philip, sitting up on the couch. His shirt is caked with blood, his right arm is covered in bandages, and he looks exhausted, but he's alive.
"You lived!" I cheer.
He laughs. "Yeah, I guess I did."
The entire room bursts into laughter. We're all so relieved, so glad…
When our laughs die down, Eliza straightens her spine. "I'm going to make some coffee," she announces. "All of you, come to the kitchen table, please." With that, she turns and marches into the kitchen.
Philip stands with some difficulty. He leans on his father's shoulder as he hobbles to the kitchen. Miranda and I sit on one side of the table as Philip and Mr. Hamilton take places at the other. Eliza hands us each a mug of black coffee. I hold mine in my hands, enjoying its warmth. She then sits down at the head of the table.
"Philip," she says seriously. "You almost died last night."
I exchange an uncomfortable glance with Miranda. I feel as if I'm intruding on a private family conversation.
Philip is staring down at his mug of coffee, shame filling his face.
"Why?" Eliza demands, her voice breaking. "Why did you do it, Philip? Do you know how much pain you've caused us? We… we thought we were going to lose you forever. Do you even know what that feels like?"
"Mom, I-" Philip tries, but Eliza cuts him off.
"No," she says. "Of course you don't. You don't know what that's like, Philip, you have no idea. Why would you do that to us?"
I turn towards Mr. Hamilton. He's been silent this entire time, but he finally speaks.
"Son," he says gently. "Why?"
"I didn't want you to duel them, Dad," Philip sighs. "I didn't want you to get hurt. And Eacker must've known that, because he went up to me yesterday and asked me if I would duel him at night, without you or Mr. Burr. And I said yes."
Eliza shakes her head in despair.
"I can take care of myself, you know," Alexander says, not unkindly.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Dad," Philip says softly. Then he turns to his mother. "I'm sorry, Mom. I really, really, truly regret what I did."
Eliza smiles gently. "At least you're alive."
Mr. Hamilton nods in agreement. "You're alive, son. We're all going to be okay."
Philip suddenly looks at me and Miranda. "And it's all because of you," he says. "You girls saved my life- twice!"
"That's right," Eliza realizes. "Girls… you saved Philip's life! Again!"
Alexander Hamilton smiles at us. "Thank you."
"Yes," Philip says, grinning. "Thank you. How can we ever repay you?"
I exchange glances with Mandy. We both shrug.
"Actually," I realize, a smile slowly spreading across my face. "There is one thing you could do…"
Miranda looks at me, confused. "What do you mean, Kay?"
I turn to Eliza. "Do you have something to write with?"
"Yes, of course," Eliza replies, standing up. She rummages around the kitchen and then sits back down at the table, holding a quill and a bottle of ink. "Why?"
"And… um… do you have a napkin?" I ask hopefully.
Philip passes one to me from across the table, shooting me a puzzled look.
Miranda finally catches on to what I'm doing.
I take the quill and ink from Eliza and the napkin from Philip. "Do you three think… that you could maybe… sign your names on this for us?"
I bite my lip, waiting for an answer. Mandy leans forward in her seat.
"Why not?" Philip shrugs. "I don't know why you would want our autographs, but if this is what you'd like, we'd be more than happy to sign!"
I hand him the quill, ink, and napkin, and he scrawls his name down. He then passes the napkin to Eliza, who starts writing her name.
"Are you sure this is how you want to be repaid, girls?" she asks us. "I mean, this is such a small favor. You really don't want anything else?"
"Nope!" I say, beaming as she hands the paper to Alexander. "This is perfect. Thank you so much."
Alexander Hamilton signs my napkin before sliding it across the table, back to me. I pick it up and stare at the signatures for a moment. I literally cannot believe that I just got the signatures of the Hamiltons!
I meet Miranda's eyes, which are as wide as saucers. She's looking at the napkin in my hands like it's made of gold. I carefully tuck the napkin into my back pocket.
"Do you want one too, Miranda?" I hear Eliza ask.
"Yes, please!" I hear my best friend squeak in response. Philip plucks another napkin off the table and scribbles his name on it. Once that napkin has been passed around and signed, Eliza hands it to Mandy.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she squeals.
All three Hamiltons look at us like we're crazy. I laugh softly. This is crazy. The fact that we travelled back in time, saved Philip's life, and got the signatures of our historical idols? If that's not crazy, then I don't know what is.
And then I remember something.
"Hold on…" I say slowly. "George Eacker thinks Philip is… dead."