“Confirming insurance.”

She checked her wristwatch.

At four thirty, a nurse’s aide brought a tray of crackers and apple slices, and Noah ate three crackers without being told to.

Lily stirred, opened her eyes, and looked right at me.

“Blanket,” she said.

It was already in her hands.

I helped her find the corner she liked, the satin edge worn thin from two years of being dragged everywhere.

“Good girl,” I said.