88 Adam woke to the smell of… something. He wasn’t sure what, but it didn’t matter because Iris was cooking it. He blinked widely, his eyelashes briefly adhering to each other at the corners. Adam stretched out his arm and threw back the window curtain above his bed. The sky was clear, but transitioning from pale blue toward late-day oranges and purples as sunset approached. Iris had sent him to bed soon after they arrived home from the hospital. He must have napped for a couple of hours. Adam peeled the bedding aside and set his socked feet on the floor. He raised his residual limb (he’d been trying not to think of it as a stump) and examined the compression bandage. It could go another couple of hours before changing. He was wearing sweats and a short-sleeved T-shirt. His inclination

