ELENA

There was a chair pulled up close to the bed, the one Rachele must have sat in for all those months, and I lowered myself into it slow so the legs wouldn't scrape. I didn't say anything. Rachele had told me not to reach for him, so I put my hands in my lap and I let him look at me and I waited for him to know who I was.

For a while he just breathed. His eyes were open and pointed at me, but they were working at something behind me, or past me, taking their time. I made myself sit ...