The day Grace came, the wound on my head was ready to have the stitches removed. The doctor said I could leave the hospital, as long as I came back for regular check-ups.

Vivien helped me pack my things. Just as we were about to leave, Grace walked in carrying the flowers wrapped in paper in one arm and her briefcase in the other. "Ms. Rand, are you being discharged?"

I nodded. "If I stay any longer, I'll start to grow mold!"

Grace handed me the sunflowers with a smile, ...