PART 1 — The Cup Victor Wanted Left Alone

The paper cup had two pinprick holes beside the lid, so small I first took them for dents from the tray.

Patricia lifted the untouched plate from Noah’s table and set it on the rolling cart.

“You didn’t eat the eggs.”

Noah shook his head.

“They got cold.”

“They’re still warm,” Victor said.

“He just doesn’t want them.”

I looked at my son.

He was twelve, and he had become very particular about food in the hospital.

“Do you want me to ask for toast instead?”

Victor answered before Noah could.

“Toast won’t make a difference.

He needs to stop watching every little detail.”

Patricia picked up the paper cup.

“Leave that,” Victor said.

Her hand stopped.

“I need to check the seal.”