He stood beside the bed with one hand resting on the rail.

“The lid probably got pressed when they brought the tray in.”

Patricia turned the cup slowly.

The plastic lid was still fitted tightly around the rim.

I leaned closer.

“Is that a puncture?”

She looked at me, then at Victor.

“Two.”

Noah had been staring at the blanket.

He glanced at the cup and pulled his sleeve down over his wrist.

Victor reached toward the cart.

“Patricia, honestly, we’re making this larger than it is.”

She kept the cup in her hand.

“You can be worried and still let me check the cup.”