I took it out and looked at the bright screen.

Richard’s name flashed across the glass, along with a photo of him grinning on our front porch.

I slipped the buzzing phone into my pocket and ran my thumb over Hannah’s knuckles.

Dr.

Vance clicked his silver pen twice.

The hospital sanitizer smell hung heavy in the small consultation room.

He took a single sheet of paper out of a manila folder on his desk.

Next to the folder sat a foam cup of lukewarm coffee.