“He was hunting for the brass bank key,” she whispered gently.

“His hands shook so badly he dropped my reading glasses onto the lining of the drawer.”

“He didn’t find the key because it’s sitting safe in your coat pocket at this very moment,” I said.

Helen drew back the blue privacy curtain, carrying a fresh plastic bag of saline.

“He was in here about three minutes,” Margaret added out loud, glancing up at Helen.

“Then he figured out I was watching him through my lashes, and he went out into the hall quicker than a stray dog.”