I stood by the bed until the sound of his heavy footsteps faded completely down the hall.

The white lilies in the glass vase smelled thick and sickly sweet, filling the small hospital room with a heavy weight.

Grace shifted in the bed, watching me take the folded paper out of my cardigan pocket.

“Is Dad upset about something?” she asked softly.

“No, Grace,” I told her, keeping my voice completely even.

“He’s just busy with work.”

“He seemed really nice tonight,” Grace whispered, pulling her sweatshirt sleeves lower over her hands.