Callum’s Hospital Secret
“Take me to him,” I said.
PART 4
We passed the surgeons’ lounge.
Through an open doorway I saw Callum’s name on a schedule, a neat black line drawn through it.
Somebody had left a mug beside his usual locker.
There was a folded child’s drawing attached to the handle with tape.
He sat in a reclining chair beneath a blue blanket, his back turned toward us, reading a booklet.
His familiar shoulders looked narrower inside his hospital shirt.
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