Theodore lay quiet against my chest, his small hand clutching the blue wool blanket.

Dr.

Wallace walked to the side of the bed where the thin clear tubing ran into the back of Mr.

Winslow’s right hand.

He slid the needle into the rubber port near the top of the line.

For a split second, Mr.

Winslow’s right eyelid opened wide.

His dark eye moved toward me and caught the edge of my apron in the gap of the doorway.