Cari rubbed sweaty palms on her jeans and nervously ran her fingers through her hair. She pushed through the heavy door and found Ray in a large cubicle, lying on a stark white bed, surrounded by machines beeping and recording every bodily function. She got a little woozy when she saw the transfusion line dripping life into his arm. She put a hand on the wall to steady herself before going to his bedside.
“Hey, neighbor, can I get you a cup of coffee with your IV?” Cari took his cool hand in hers, and he lightly squeezed it.
He struggled to open his eyes and tried to focus on her. Tears slipped from the corners, sliding to the stiff white pillowcase. His face blended too well with the bedsheets. Ray moved his lips, and Cari leaned into him in an attempt to hear what he was saying.
Ray’s
