NEXT DAY 

Soft afternoon light filtered into the guest room as Roberto’s eyelids fluttered, thin and brittle. The world came back in fragments,the sound of the air filter, the faint scent of antiseptic, the cushioned rustle of sheets as his hand shifted. A drip monitor ticked quietly beside him.

He breathed deeply, then coughed,throat dry, voice cracked. He turned his head toward the window and saw movement. Antonio stood at the doorway, plate in hand, ...