Maybe the nurse at the desk had told her I was walking around the hall on my own.

Maybe she thought the surgery was just a minor complication that was already over and done with.

The heavy fire door at the end of the corridor clicked shut, and Kevin came back into the room holding Brooklyn’s hand.

Brooklyn sat down on the floor by the window and opened her box of yellow crayons on a white sheet of paper.

I held the lit-up phone out to Kevin without saying a word.