Lily lay on the narrow hospital bed wearing a faded yellow gown.

She curled into a tight ball under the thin cotton blanket.

I walked to the small cart in the hallway and poured a cup from the silver carafe.

The hospital coffee tasted exactly like burned aluminum.

I set the paper cup on the sink counter and walked back to the bed.

I sat in the hard plastic chair and held her small hand.

Her skin felt clammy and cold.