When I wake up, I’m dry. Does that mean clouds are dry in heaven? I move a little, but it makes my back and head hurt. If I hurt, that must mean I didn’t die. I open my eyes.
“Decided to join the party, huh?” says Heather. “Hey, everyone, the kid’s awake.”
I see Mom and my aunties.
And Dad.
Wait a minute. What?
“Dad?” It comes out all croaky.
He hugs me for a long, long time, and I hug him back, real tight.
We all stay in the shelter for the last three days we need to stay together. Dad, I find out later, had been worried and flew out before the storm but missed the last ferry to the island. He had paced, made phone calls, and met each arrival to the shelter looking for us.
We had almost made it to shore when the Coast Guard saw Rita’s flashlight and picked us up. The doctors at th
