“Alma, I’m right here.” I pat her forearm to ensure she can feel me beside her, and her eyes open a sliver. “Hey. How you feelin’?”

Alma opens her mouth. Only a moan escapes as her eyes search the room, struggling to find me.

“It’s okay,” I sooth. “Don’t talk.  Just rest. Liberty and I will be right here if you need anything.”

The sharp scrape of the metal curtain hooks on the rod slice the silence as a nurse quickly moves to Alma’s bedside. ...