I love you, I sign.

He hands the flowers he’s holding to my mom and then he signs back. You were brilliant up there. He points to my dad and grins. Just ask him. He’ll tell you. But then he sobers. You did it, Em. You did it.

I know what my dad thinks. I want to know what Logan thinks. What did you think you of my performance? I bite my lower lip.

I’ve never known what music felt like before, and I know now. Thank you. But I already knew you were f**king brilliant.

I run over and wrap my arms around him.

He tips my face up. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before.”

“I’d do just about anything for you.”

My mom finally gets to hug me. “You should have seen your dad’s face the minute you started to sing. He had no idea you had that in you. And then he realized the words were about him. He sobbed through the whole performance.”

“I did not sob,” my dad complains, his voice gruff but playful.

“Cried?” Paul suggests.

“Boohooed?” Matt tosses in.

“Wailed like an infant?” Sam says.

My dad huffs, but he’s not angry. “I’m just so proud of her!” My heart expands in my chest at his words.

Logan drops an around my shoulders. “So am I.”

Paul yells, “I think that’s pretty much unanimous!”

“I’m starving,” Sam calls out. “Can we go get a pie?” He rubs his stomach.

Dad laughs. “The pie is on me.”

“Better make it pies,” Paul says. “You’ve obviously never seen these boys eat.”

We start to the restaurant on foot, since it’s only a short walk away.

My dad puts his arm around my shoulders and walks with me. “You really surprised me tonight,” he says softly.

“I can tell.” I laugh. But it’s not a funny topic, not to me.

“I’m sorry, Em. I should have heard you play a long time ago. I would have understood why you have this passion for music. You’re talented.”

I wrap my arm around his waist and lean into him. “Thanks, Dad.”

Logan and the boys have already crossed the street, as has my mom. I stoop to tie my shoe, and my dad stops in the middle of the road. He waits for me.

I hear the screech of the tires before I even see the car careening in our direction. The ice on the street is thin and black and hard to see. The car can’t stop. My dad stands there immobile, frozen in the headlights. The car swerves, but it’s not enough. My dad is directly in its path.

The scene freezes in my head, like a film played in slow motion.

“Dad!” I call. I run toward him, but then I look over his shoulder, and I see the moment Logan makes his decision. His blue eyes meet mine, and he looks directly into my face as he steps into the path of the oncoming car and shoves my dad to safety. My dad falls onto the concrete beside me, and the car hits Logan directly in the knees. He flies over the hood and rolls into the windshield. The car skids into a parked car with a screech of its brakes and a furious turn of the wheel. Logan falls from the hood of the car and lands on the concrete. He lies there. I watch, paralyzed with fear as I wait for Logan to get up and shake it off. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t move. And then I see the blood spreading across his forehead.

I run to Logan and grab the front of his coat. “Logan!” I scream. “Logan.”

Paul pulls me off Logan and pushes me into Matt’s waiting arms. I fight, kicking and screaming, until Matt restrains me with his arms wrapped tightly around me. He won’t even let me look at Logan. I scratch and kick at him, and he grunts when I head butt his chin.

“Stop it,” he breathes.

He holds me immobile, his strong arms wrapped around me while he keeps me turned away from the sight of Paul and Sam working on Logan. They’re giving him mouth-to-mouth. I can hear Sam counting, and I can hear Paul as he breathes in and out. It seems like days until the ambulance arrives. They hoist Logan inside, and I’m left there in the street with Matt holding my hands behind my back. Paul rides with Logan. Another ambulance is coming. I can hear the sirens. And that’s when I realize the second one is for my dad.

I look down. He’s completely motionless, and my mom has his head in her lap. She’s sobbing and rubbing his quiet face. I watch, knowing it has to be too late for my dad. He is as still as Logan. No one was giving him CPR, though. Not like they were with Logan. The emergency responders load my dad in the ambulance, and I stand there. I feel dead inside. I don’t know what to do or where to go. My mom gets in the ambulance, and they close the doors behind her. This reminds me so much of the time that Matt was sick, and I had to call the ambulance for him. They let me ride with him, though. No one left me waiting in the street not knowing what to do.

Matt and Sam drag me toward a waiting police car. “Get in,” Matt says as he pushes my head down like you see the police do on cop shows. He slides in behind me and drops an arm around my shoulders pulling me into him. He looks down at me, getting in my face. “You didn’t get hit, did you?” he asks.

I shake my head. “It wasn’t me. It was Logan.”

Oh my God. It was Logan. Logan got hit by the out-of-control car. He rolled over the hood and into windshield. Then he lay on the cold concrete, unmoving. Pete and Sam did CPR.

“He wasn’t breathing,” I say. I start to shiver.

“No, he wasn’t.” Matt’s hand rubs absently along my shoulder.