Wren

The walk to the garden feels longer than it should. I trail behind Ezra and his mom—who hasn’t said anything to me except for my name.

I don’t know what to expect but hey, at least I wasn’t asked to leave. Not yet.

“Alright guys,” the nurse says. “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know when you need me.” And she walks away.

Other people scatter around in the garden, some with visitors, others with just their nurses enjoying the serenity of nature.

“Sit, Wren.” Andrea ...