When the doors opened and he appeared, I recognized his walk before I took in the woman beside him.

His suitcase rolled easily.

He looked rested.

His skin was darker than when he left, and he wore the kind of smile he usually saved for photographs.

The woman’s white blouse caught the light.

Her red nails rested against his sleeve.

For a second, I thought of the cropped photograph I had shown Nurse Sarah.

Then I heard myself say his name.