Half an hour later, a nurse in a blue surgical cap opened the double doors and waved me down the hall.

I followed him to a little room with a glass front.

Emma was lying on a narrow bed with a thin white blanket pulled up to her chin.

A wire ran from her finger to a monitor on the wall.

Two nurses were adjusting the settings and checking the tubes hooked to the wall panel.

I pulled a chair right up to the side of the bed and took Emma’s hand.

Her fingers were cold.