Excerpt from The Memory of Light by Francisco X. Stork, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Aló."

"Nana. It's me."

"Hijita, hijita."

Her voice is weak, fragile, tearful. "You okay?"

"I'm okay."

"I so worried about you. You at the hospital? Your father say you come home tomorrow. I want to go with you last night, but the ambulance men say no. I can't believe I hear your voice. Es un milagro that you're alive. Thank you, Diosito. Thank you, Virgencita de Guadalupe.

"You know what happen last night?" she continues. "I in my room asleep and I hear the gato meow, meow outside my door. I never heard him meow like that before, like someone pulling his tail or something. So I open the door to see and he's meow, meow. I follow him and he run upstairs and on top of the stairs, meow, meow. I don't know what, but just then I felt something in heart so heavy. I know something very bad. I climb stairs on hands and knees like a baby. I knock on your door but you don't open, so I think maybe you're not there. But the gato is meow, meow there by door, going loco. Then I open door and see you in bed with eyes closed, so I think everything okay, you asleep, but the gato runs in and jumps on top of you, meowing and pulling your shirt with his nails."

I touch my chest. So that's where the scratches came from. Galileo.

"I saw the empty bottle. I know they sleeping pills from Barbara. I call 9-1-1 right away, then your father on his cell," Juanita continues." Es un milagro . Tu ángel de la guarda made that silly gato save you. He climbed tree, went through window, saw you, and climbed down to my room to get me. Es un milagro."

"Galileo?" All that energy and movement are so uncharacteristic of Galileo. He is as serene and lazy and content as only a well-fed eight-year-old neutered tomcat can be. The thought of him meowing or doing anything in a hurry is so strange.

"What happened, mi niña? Why you do something so horrible? Something happen in school?"

"No, no."

"Do you miss your mamá? I miss her too. Your mamá wouldn't want you to do this."

"I know," I say, rubbing my eyes with my hands.

"Who hurt you, mi niña? Tell me."

"No one, Nana, no one hurt me. It just hurts inside, I don't k now why."

"Is it Barbara? Is that what happen?"

"No ..." I have no answers to these questions, no explanations that make any sense. I feel my head shrinking, tightening with pressure, as if I were taking an exam in a foreign language on a subject I never even knew existed.

"She okay. She tries. She needs learn to smile. So serious always. But she not bad inside. Your father, he loves you also. They sometimes confused about how to love. But they okay."

It is so painful to hear Juanita's voice. Why? "Nana, I have to go. I wanted to let you know I'm okay."

"I be here, my Vicky. I don't go to Mexico until you come home. I stay here with you if I could always."

"Nana." She hasn't seen my letter, so I need to tell her. "This thing I did. Taking the pills. It doesn't mean I don't love you."

"I know that, my niña, I know. I no never have doubts. Don't worry. I be here waiting for you. Don't forget the gato. Diosito didn't want you to die."

Excerpted from The Memory of Light by Francisco X Stork. Copyright © 2016 by Francisco X Stork. Excerpted by permission of Arthur A. Levine Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.