“I’m going to get you a warmer blanket,” Rachel said.

She set her cards face down and walked out the door.

I looked at her empty chair and listened to the loud crinkle of my plastic mattress cover.

I wished she didn’t have to go back to her own apartment.

Evelyn walked into my room at ten o’clock the next morning.

She held a fresh stack of legal documents and a thick clipboard.

“We need to authorize the Cleveland transfer by noon,” she said.