Hannah got to her feet.

She slid the blue fleece hoodie off her shoulders.

She passed the hoodie to me.

I held the soft fleece against my chest.

Hannah sat down in the wheelchair and rested her bare feet on the metal footrests.

I bent down and kissed the top of her head.

Her hair smelled of hospital sanitizer and cheap motel soap.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” I promised.