“Grace, I want to feel your stomach while you lie flat,” he said, his voice calm and even.

“Tell me the second anything feels sharp or sore.”

Grace eased back onto the crinkly white paper and rested her head on the thin hospital pillow.

She pulled her gray sweatshirt sleeves down over her thumbs until only her short fingernails showed above the frayed dark cuffs.

Dr.

Collins pressed his right hand gently against her lower right side.

Grace flinched, her knees tightening and her white sneakers sliding an inch back on the paper, but she kept her lips pressed tight.

“Right there?” Dr.