Vance wrote two short lines on the chart, clipped his pen back into his coat pocket, and walked toward the next station down the hall.

Kevin stepped around the monitor stand and put his hand on my shoulder, his grip warm and steady through my sweater.

“Did you hear him?” he asked.

“I heard him,” I said.

My incision gave a tiny, dull ache as I straightened my spine, but it was just a physical fact now, not an emergency.

By nine-thirty, the hallway had quieted down as the morning shift finished their handoff reports.

Nurse Elena walked into the room carrying a small paper bag and a roll of clear tape.