“It’s time to see a doctor,” Raven said. “Let’s call Aunt Sondra and have her bring Dr. Pat. Tell me her phone number and how to get in your phone. I’ll call right now.”

“No!” Her former will gleamed in her eyes. “You will promise me no doctors! Promise me now!”

Raven thought of what Jackie had said. You take your promises to her too seriously.

Mama saw she didn’t want to promise. “This is my body and spirit, Daughter,” she said with surprising vehemence. “I will not have anyone fiddling with it! I will not be attached to their machines and needles. I will not let them do what they did to my mother!”

“What did they do?”

“They took all dignity and fight out of her. She wanted to die on our land in Montana, and they wouldn’t let her.”

Mama’s face blurred in tears. “Are you saying you think you’re going to die?”

Mama held her hand. Her skin was cold. “I’m fighting this thing, Raven. I’m still speaking to the spirits. If you take me to one of those hospitals, I will surely die as my mother did. Promise me no doctors. Not ever.”

“But what if—”

“Promise!”

“I promise, Mama.” Tears dripped down her cheeks.

“Daughter . . . I’m comfortable with going to the spirits. They’ve been good to me. They gave me you. And it’s for you that I need to stay in this world. Surely the spirits see that. You aren’t ready to be on your own yet.”

“I know. I’m so scared.”

Mama squeezed her hand. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

For how long? If the spirits hadn’t yet helped her, would they ever?

Mama’s eyes started losing focus again. But she seemed to look at something behind Raven. Raven turned around but saw nothing. It must be a spirit Mama could see. But earth spirits were unlikely to come inside a house. They would feel trapped there.

“I have to keep her safe,” Mama whispered to the spirit. “Let me keep her safe.” After a silence, she said anxiously, “I did no wrong! She was given to me. Don’t punish me! I did nothing wrong!”

Raven clasped her hand. “No one will punish you, Mama.”

Mama turned her eyes toward her but seemed to look through her. “They might be punishing me. I’m not sure. I don’t remember what I did . . . how I got you. They might be angry about what I did. That might be why I’m sick.”

“What do you mean? They gave me to you.”

“Yes . . . they gave you to me. A perfect baby. A miracle.” She clutched Raven’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t ever let that man say you’re his! He’s bad! He kills the earth spirits! He’s like my father with his corporations and his chemicals poisoning the land! You were never meant to be his!”

“Who? What man?”

“That senator. Bauhammer!” Mama pressed her hand to her forehead. “He’s dead. I remember now. He can never come here. He can’t take you.”

Raven didn’t understand what she was talking about with the senator. But Mama often confused memories when she was halfway between the material and spiritual worlds. Raven could easily see how that would happen.

Mama’s body suddenly went slack, and her eyes closed. Raven frantically pressed her hand on Mama’s heart. She couldn’t feel it beating. She laid her head on her chest, listening.

She heard it. The heart beating. Mama hadn’t died. Yet she looked so pale and lifeless.

When she was certain Mama would continue breathing, Raven left to make breakfast. And later lunch, then dinner. By nightfall, Mama hadn’t woken to eat. Raven slept in her bed, her arm tucked around Mama to feel her warmth.

Raven had never missed school because of Mama’s shifts into the spirit world. The times it happened on a school day, she had trusted Mama’s health enough to leave her. Mama would stay in the spirit world for a day, sometimes two. This shift had started on Tuesday, and Raven was still at home taking care of her on Thursday. She had missed three days of classes, but she was too panicked about Mama to care.

She was trying to spoon broth into Mama’s mouth when the alarm went off. Someone was coming down the driveway. Probably a deer or a coyote. That had happened before. Yet her heart still throbbed as fast as it had when she was a little girl.

But maybe it was her aunt. She was the only person who knew the code—so she could get in when she visited with Dr. Pat.

Raven put down the soup and ran to the video cameras. The second alarm joined the first, which meant whoever or whatever was in the driveway was getting closer. There were three warnings in total.

She stared at the third video camera. A man. She leaned closer to the grainy image. It was Jackie, walking fast.

She flung open the front door. People were absolutely forbidden anywhere near her house. The rule was so ingrained that she ran in a panic without putting on shoes. She hardly felt the cold or the driveway stones bruising her feet.

She met Jackie at the place where the last alarm triggered. Now three sounded inside the house. She should have turned them off. But she doubted Mama was aware enough to be upset.

“Jackie!” she said breathlessly.

He had stopped walking about ten yards from her. “Did you see me coming on the cameras?”