"Thank you, Father," Alex said. "Just one more thing, if you don't mind."

"Of course not," Father Franco said. "How can I help you?"

Alex didn't want to ask the question and didn't want to hear the answer. "It's about the bodies they've found," he said. "Do you know if all of them have been found yet? Like at Yankee Stadium. Is that all the bodies of women they've found?"

Father Franco shook his head. "Many bodies haven't been recovered even now," he said. "And my understanding is they keep those poor women at Yankee Stadium only for a couple of days before replacing them with others."

"So you could go there and look and even if you don't find the person you're looking for, that doesn't mean she's still alive," Alex said.

"I'm afraid so," Father Franco said.

"And the ones that don't get identified," Alex said. "Do they bury them anyway?"

Father Franco looked uncomfortable. "They're forced to cremate them," he said.

"I didn't think the church approved of cremation," Alex said.

"These are extraordinary circumstances," Father Franco said. "I'm sure Cod understands and forgives."

Alex nodded, willing himself not to picture his mother's body tossed into a pile of corpses in a crematorium. "Thank you, Father," he said, getting up.

"My prayers are with you," Father Franco said. "You and your whole family."

How many people was he praying for, Alex thought as he-left St. Margaret's. Did he ever have time to pray for himself?

Saturday, May 28

"This place is a mess," Alex said angrily as he surveyed the living room. "Don't you girls know how to pick up after yourselves! And why are you watching TV in the middle of the afternoon? Don't your teachers give you homework?"

Julie and Bri were sitting on the living room sofa, watching an I Love Lucy rerun. Julie yawned.

"I'm sorry —," Bri began saying, but Julie punched her in her arm.

Alex crossed to the TV and turned it off. Julie turned it back on with the remote.

Alex walked over to Julie and yanked the remote from her. "Get up!" he yelled. "Now! And start cleaning up your mess."

"I'm not doing anything until you tell us where Mami and Papi are," Julie said. "Neither is Bri. Are you, Bri." It sounded more like a threat than a question.

Bri looked miserable but she shook her head.

"What is this, some kind of strike?" Alex asked. "You're teamsters now? Well, that isn't going to work. Stop with the TV and the whining."

"Who died and made you boss?" Julie said.

Without even thinking, Alex slapped her hard across her face. Julie cried out in pain, then ran from the living room, Bri racing after her. Julie slammed the bedroom door behind them.

"Idiota," Alex muttered. He hated it when Papi struck any of them, had vowed he would never do that to any of his children, and now when his sisters needed him the most, he had acted like the worst kind of bully.

He gave his sisters a couple of minutes to yell and cry and do whatever it was they did in the privacy of their room, and then he knocked on their door. Not waiting for permission, he entered.

Julie sat on the upper bunk bed, her cheek still red from Alex's hand. Bri stood by her side.

Alex tried to imagine Papi apologizing but couldn't. Maybe to Mami, but never to one of his children.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have hit you."

Julie turned her head away from him.

"Where are they?" Bri asked. "Why haven't we heard from them?"

"I don't know," Alex said. "I don't, I swear."

"Have you even tried to find them?" Julie demanded.

"Yes, of course," Alex said, shuddering at the memory of the rows of bodies at Yankee Stadium. "They're just gone. I'm not saying they're dead. But I don't think we should count on them ever coming back."

"No!" Bri cried. "I don't believe that. I won't. I spoke to Papi. He was alive. He said Puerto Rico. I heard him!" She began to weep.

"Look," Alex said, feeling helpless and alone. "Bri, even if that was Papi, he can't get out of Puerto Rico. Planes aren't flying anymore. And the phones aren't working there. I've tried every day, first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and I can't get through. Maybe you're right and you did talk to Papi, but we can't count on him coming home. Not for a long time."

"What about Mami?" Julie asked. "Why isn't she home?"

"The subways flooded that night," Alex said. "I called the hospital days ago, and they didn't know if she was there. I think if she was, she would have called us, but I don't know for sure. I have looked, Julie. I took a bus to Yankee Stadium on Thursday and looked at hundreds of bodies there, but none of them was Mami."

"Then she must be alive." Bri sobbed.

"Maybe," Alex said. "But I think she'd call if she was all right."

"So we're alone," Julie said.

Alex nodded. "When Carlos calls next, we'll tell him," he said. "Maybe the Marines will let him come home. But until then, it's just the three of us. So we have to pull together. We have to act the way Mami and Papi would expect us to. We have to go to school and keep the place neat and attend Mass. But I swear, I'll never hit you again, Julie. Never."

Julie turned around to face him. "What's going to become of us?" she asked. "What if social services finds out about us? Can we stay here if Papi isn't here? Do we have enough money? Who's going to take care of us?"

"We'll take care of ourselves," Alex said. "We've been doing a pretty good job of it up till now. No one cares enough to report us to social services, and I think we can stay here for a while longer before anybody notices. I don't know what we'll do about money, but we still have food. I guess if things get really bad, we'll move in with Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Lorraine." He grabbed a box of tissues and handed it to Bri. "Any more questions?" he asked.

"I'm sorry about what I said," Julie said. "I just miss them so much."

"I know," Alex said. "I pray for them all the time." And for us, he thought.

Bri blew her nose, then tossed the wad of tissues into the wastebasket. "La madre will hear us," she said. She took her rosary beads she kept next to the statue of the Virgin on top of the chest of drawers, then knelt in prayer.

I'm sorry, Alex mouthed to Julie, but if she saw him, she didn't acknowledge it. He left the room and went into his own.

"Graceful and loving Mother, hear our prayers," he whispered, hoping she could hear him over the din of lost souls.

Wednesday, June 1

As Alex stood in front of his locker trying to decide what books to take home with him, he felt a tap on his shoulder. His immediate response was that unnerving mix of anger and panic he felt so often the past two weeks. Seeing Chris Flynn standing there didn't help much.

"I think we should talk," Chris said. "In private." He gestured to the nearest classroom.

Alex followed Chris in. He thought about how often Chris had been cited as a natural leader. Apparently even Alex was willing to be led.

Chris closed the door behind them. "I wanted you to know I'm leaving school tomorrow," he said. "It's a long story and I'll spare you most of the details, but we were waiting for my sister to make it back from Notre Dame. She's home now, so we can get going."

"Where?" Alex asked.

"South Carolina," Chris said. "My mother has family there. Dad'll be staying in the city for the time being."

"I don't get it," Alex said. It somehow seemed worse that Chris would be leaving midweek. "What about finals?"

"I've already taken them," Chris said. "That took some arranging, too, but I am now officially a senior." He laughed. "Congratulations. You're now the president of the junior class. It'll look good on your college resume, assuming colleges still exist a year from now."