HU:

The smell of antiseptic burns my nostrils as I sit slumped in the cold sofa, my head in my hands. Anna is next to me, her fingers wringing the hem of her blouse over and over. Neither of us speaks. Her daughter is hooked up to monitors, which keeps the air tense.

I keep playing the scene over in my head, and I wish I wasn’t too stunned and weak to let her run off like that.

Anna brushes away tears with the back of her hand. This single act causes a weird feeling to drive through my ...