“Be careful.”
“I want to get out of this bed and go see him.”
Shelby tended to my hair. It was a mess all around the small bald spots I could feel, the ones they must have made to check my skull. They hadn’t needed to drill into it, at least. That was good. They had for Patrick. My head was sticky with dried blood and antibiotic creams, though, a lot of the hair all around the wounds on top, too. I figured I probably looked like a troll doll. “Patrick’s not awake. He might not even know you’re there,” Shell said.
“He’ll know I’m there.”
My sister and Rip stayed through lunch. Shell ate half my turkey sandwich, and I gave Rip my cake square and chocolate milk. I owed him. Though I hated to see them and my little piglet go, I convinced them to head home to get some rest after we watched
