The hospital corridor smelled like sterile chemicals and dying flowers. I clutched the shopping bag with the book I'd bought for Yanis, my footsteps echoing off the cold tile. His room was at the end of the hall, the door half-open.

I pushed it open. Yanis sat propped up in bed, still pale but his brown eyes were clear. When he saw me, he grinned. "Elin. Twice in one week? You're spoiling me."

"Someone has to." I set the bag on the bedside table. "Got you a mystery novel. Figured you'd be ...