Valerie Came Home From Deployment to Find Her Twelve-Year-Old Daughter in Intensive Care
I held her hand still.
My thumb found the small scar on her knuckle from a bicycle chain.
“I brought your peach lip balm,” I said.
“It’s in the side pocket.
You can have it when you wake up.” I told her about the laundry room on base and the broken dryer that ate quarters.
I told her the sergeant in the next bunk had adopted a cat named Radar.
Her eyelids didn’t move.
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