He walked toward the elevators with his phone already at his ear.

I stood by the chapel doors.

The ICU doors were at the far end of the corridor, pale blue, with a small window in each one.

I held my duffel bag strap tight in my fist.

The canvas was still warm from the car.

The ICU doors didn’t open.

I watched them anyway.

Marisol had the intake file open on the standing kiosk before I reached the counter.