The next day, the doctor signed my release papers around three in the afternoon. They ran all the tests they could think of, but none of them could explain why my leg wouldn’t work. In the end, the doctor gave me a crutch and sent me on my way with a strict reminder that I needed to make an appointment to see my family doctor as soon as possible. 

I closed my curtains, undid my hospital gown, and got dressed. Hopping around the room, I got my things together into the white plastic bag they gave me. There was just one problem. I couldn’t find Evander’s iPod anywhere. I looked everywhere—with a vengeance—but in the end, I had to conclude gravely that it had been stolen. Someone must have taken it while I was out of the room having my tests done.

I rang the call button. When the nurse came in, I told her, my iPod was missing.

She looked up from her clipboard long enough to point her pen at a sign posted on the wall that read; “The hospital is not responsible for lost or damaged property. Please send valuables home during your stay. Thank you!”

I felt like dying.

Hobbling to the front desk, I signed the discharge forms and talked to the nurse there about my stolen iPod. She gave me a lost item report form to fill out, but she didn’t look hopeful it would be found.

Afterward, I went to the courtesy phone to call my mom to come get me. Someone was using it. A woman who looked like she was ninety was making arrangements for her own funeral—literally. I didn’t wait for her to finish. After all, it sounded like she was expecting the procession to the graveyard to begin once she finished with the phone. I turned on my crutch and left her to her business.

I got out of the hospital and made my slow, sloppy way to the bus stop. What was I going to do about Evander’s lost iPod? First off, I had to tell him it had been stolen. That would be unspeakably embarrassing. Whatever he said, I had to replace it. That would cost an arm and a leg. Luckily, I had a not-so-useful limb to spare, but still! The whole thing was too awkward for words. The guy talked to me once and BOOM! Misfortune strikes him! Expensive misfortune at that.

When I got home, Rachel was there with my mom. While my mother was cutting up vegetables for supper, Rachel sat on the couch and read her highlights from Evander’s book. I heard her nasal voice as soon as I came in the door.

“’He was so pleased, just looking at her,'” Rachel quoted. Then she heard me coming in. “Sarah’s back.” 

My mom glanced up at me and my walking stick. “If it ended up like this, then why didn’t you call me?”

“Not even a quarter to my name and the courtesy phone was backed up. Don’t worry about it. I’m young and sprightly. Besides, the bus is cheaper than a taxi.”

Rachel put her shaved head around the corner and asked, “So, did they figure out what was wrong with your leg?”

I showed her my crutch. “Not really, but I’ll be okay.”

“Great. Come on in and listen. I just know we’re almost at the good part.” She started quoting his book again, “’He sighed. He felt weak more often than not. Glancing at Sarafina, he felt sorry. He wanted to acquaint her with his reality.'” Rachel squealed. “This is what the guy you like wrote? He sounds super fun. When do I get to meet him?”

“Never,” I said as I seized the book.

“Aw!” she bawled, half pretending to cry. “His writing isn’t that corny. He’s pretty romantic. Did he write it for you?”

I nearly choked on some saliva that somehow got lodged in my throat. “For me? That’s rich,” I fumed. “What makes you think it’s for me?”

“The heroine’s name is Sarafina. Your name is Sarah. Surely you noticed the similarity.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Really? The girl in the second part’s name is Serissa. Still think it’s a coincidence?”

“Evander never thought anything about me. He barely talks to me.”

“Still waters run deep,” Rachel countered.

I turned to my mom who was still chopping away at a cutting board scattered with vegetable carcasses. “Mom, what do you think of all this?”

She eyed me carefully and began speaking in a level tone. “Well, I think Sarah is a fairly common name. He probably knows half a dozen girls called the same thing. Normally, no, I wouldn’t think his writing had anything to do with you, but from what Rachel read, it doesn’t sound like just anyone. It sounds like you.” She started laughing jovially. “And let me tell you, baby girl, he’s really got you figured out.”

I stormed out of the room. “Idiots!” I yelled back at the women. It wasn’t written like that because Evander liked me. The book recorded the time I spent inside just the way I made it happen. 

But why didn’t Rachel get sucked into the book the same way I did?