Dr. Logan himself stuck his head out and beckoned us toward the back. “Mrs. Maxwell,” he said, barring us from entering the hall. “Do you think I might talk to Delaney alone?” Mom shot me a look. “I can have a nurse in if it makes her more comfortable.” I nodded at the doctor and Mom.

“I’ll be right out here if you need me.” Then she stood in the entrance, watching us go, as the door swung back in her face.

I followed Dr. Logan down the hall. He stepped to the side to let a nurse pass, and she smiled up at him. Then she walked right into me, knocking me into the wall. She put a hand out in front of her, spun around, and continued down the hall like she never even saw me. Like I wasn’t even there. I bit down on the inside of my mouth until I tasted blood.

I stumbled down the rest of the hall after the doctor, sinking into the visitor’s chair in his office. He hadn’t even taken me to an exam room. It was almost like he knew there was nothing he could really do for me. “There’s something seriously wrong with me,” I said before he had a chance to talk. “I’m not normal. I died. I freaking died. I’m not human.”

Dr. Logan pulled his chair around his desk so he was sitting directly in front of me. His arms gripped my shoulders. “Okay, back up a little. What’s been going on in your life, Delaney? Your mother said you lost someone.”

I grinned. Lost someone. Like I had misplaced Carson, dropped him on the way to school, couldn’t find him in the crowded mall.

“He died,” I corrected. “He had a seizure and I tried to save him and he died. I tried,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t be alive. He should be and I shouldn’t. It’s not fair.”

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled loudly. “No, of course it’s not.”

I started laughing. “Even my own doctor doesn’t think it’s fair. Even you don’t think I should be alive.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. But these things don’t follow the rules of fair. Look, what you’re feeling is very common. It’s survivor guilt. Like in a plane crash when there’s a sole survivor. Everyone thinks that one person is a miracle, but that one person can’t live normally. They’re consumed with figuring out ‘Why me? What makes me special?’”

I sucked in a breath and nodded vigorously. Dr. Logan placed his hands on my shoulders again. “Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer for you. Just know that you’re not alone.”

Yes, I was. Carson was dead. Mom was disappearing. Troy was delusional. Decker hadn’t even called. Nobody had called.

“Have you been taking the medicine I prescribed?”

“Not really. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m not stressed. I’m not even me anymore.” I was a girl who died and miraculously came back, but I was also a girl who didn’t believe in miracles anymore. A Catch-22.

“I’m not human,” I said. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

Dr. Logan reached for my hand and felt the bones underneath. “You feel plenty human,” he said.

“So does a corpse,” I mumbled.

“You sound plenty human.”

I turned my head up. My amended answer for what makes us human was the brain. The undamaged brain. Maybe the doctor had a more scientific answer. “What makes me human, then?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal that he might know the meaning of life. “We are the only species aware of our own mortality. We are the only ones who want to know why we live and why we die.” He chewed on the inside of his mouth like he was debating something. “And you care. You tried to help.”

Except my caring was pointless. I cared and people died anyway. At least Troy was doing something with his caring. He was making a difference, even if I thought he was mad.

And then the doctor did something stupid. Because when someone’s drowning, the instinct is to throw them a life preserver. “That boy,” Dr. Logan said, clearing his throat. “From last time you were here. You saved him. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you saved him.”

“What?” I pictured the boy humming in the corner. “You listened to me?”

“No, not me. But you scared his nurse. She demanded we take him to the hospital and run some tests. So we did.”

Something fluttered in my chest. “And?”

“And he had a stroke. But we were all right there. And we were able to save him.” He grabbed onto the hands that were resting in my lap and squeezed. “Do you believe in a higher power? That there aren’t coincidences? That you lived so you could save him?”