"Hannah, it's - it's - " he tried to exclaim. His lack of breath kept him from getting his sentence out, but I understood right away.

"Your father?" I finished for him.

Nodding frantically, he grabbed my arm. "C'mon!"

The two of us ran for blocks and blocks until we could run no more. By then we were halfway to the sanatorium. I was shaking and my heart was pounding - part of this was from the running, but part of it was from complete and utter terror. I had no idea what to expect once we reached his father.

After walking for a good long while, we spotted the sanatorium and started running again. We ran inside and head on into Sister Margaret. Without stopping to even excuse ourselves, we ran straight to Mr. O'Reilly's room. What we saw was the thing we least expected.

There was Mr. O'Reilly, sitting up in bed, eating a small bowl of oatmeal. The color was in his cheeks as he looked to Skittery and I.

Skittery's jaw dropped to the floor. "But...they..."

I was equally stunned. "I thought..."

Mr. O'Reilly laughed hoarsley. "What were you two expecting?" he asked in a voice near a whisper.

Without another word, Skittery ran and hugged his father tightly. Tears came to my eyes as I watched.

"Hannah?"

I looked to Mr. O'Reilly. He smiled at me and motioned for me to come over as well. I did so, and he pulled me into a hug.

The three of us visited long into the afternoon, sharing stories and such. Mr. O'Reilly told me funny stories about Skittery when he was young (which didn't sit too well with Skit, but he knew I wouldn't tell), and equally exciting tales from his life at sea.

I found Skittery's father to be a very pleasant, warm soul. He was extremely personable and very funny, like Skit. So that's why you're falling for him... I thought. This time, I didn't silence my thoughts. I finally decided that it was time I began listening to my feelings.

Just as Mr. O'Reilly was beginning another sea story, Sister Margaret came in. "S�amas," she said, "you and Hannah should go home now. Your father needs his rest."

Nodding, Skittery stood up, as did I. We hugged his father goodbye. "Love ya, Dad," Skittery said to him as we exited the small white room. His father smiled. "I love ya, S�amas."

Once we were in the hall with Sister Margaret, Skittery became angry. "Why did ya call th' loding house an' make this sound like bad news?"

Sister Margaret looked at the floor. "I am sorry, S�amas. I truly am. I'm sorry that I frightened you."

He looked at her for a moment and nodded. "Thank ya. I'll see ya soon, Sister Margaret."

"Goodbye, S�amas. Goodbye, Hannah."

I followed Skittery out of the sanatorium. As we walked, he started smiling. "I can't believe it! I just can't believe it! Dad's getting better!"

I was completely overcome with happiness as well. "It's wonderful!" I exclaimed, grinning.

Suddenly, before I knew what was happening, Skittery pulled me close and kissed me. When he let go, the full reality of what had just happened hadn't hit me, and I stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do or how to react. Finally, I just looked up at Skittery and the two of us began laughing uncontrollably.

"C'mon, let's get home," he said, wrapping an arm around me as we walked back to the lodging house.

The next morning, Skit and I met in the hallway and descended the stairs together. We were two of the first awake, so we meant to get our breakfasts and our papes quickly so we could visit his father again.

We were somewhere in the middle of a conversation about Weasel when we stepped outside the lodging house, descended the stairs, and were stopped by Sister Margaret. Her face was ashen as she looked at Skittery.

"S�amas, I'm sorry, but your father - "

"No." He looked up at her. "He was getting well!"

"Please, S�amas, you have to understand! Most patients get better before - "

"How? How?!" he exclaimed, rubbing a hand over his face. "He was getting well!"

Tears filled my eyes as I watched Skittery. He looked utterly helpless, standing there looking at Sister Margaret like maybe this was all a dream, just a bad dream that he could awaken from at any moment.

She moved toward him as if to comfort him, but he moved away from her and ran off. I looked up at her, not sure what to do.

"Go to him. I will wait for you here," she said.

I nodded and ran off in the direction he had gone. My tears blinded me as I ran aimlessly, not sure where Skittery had run off to.

Suddenly, there he was, sitting on a secluded bench with his head in his hands, crying bitterly. Silently, I sat down beside him, putting an arm around him. He turned to me and whispered, "Do you remember when I said that I don't cry?"

I nodded, tears rolling down my cheeks.

He pulled me into a tight hug and whispered, "I lied."