Oren

“You don’t need to carry me.”

Adelaide’s voice might be weak, but the sparkle in her eyes wasn’t. The blue was glowing—electric—as if her eyes were telling their own story. They were saying that her body would still need to heal, but inside she was alive.

The reality was that I’d carry her anywhere—everywhere. As it was, I was only carrying her down the steps to the first floor. Dr. Rossi had said it was good to get her out of bed. I'd ...