When they reached his apartment, Michael sank onto the living room couch, resting his head on an overstuffed throw pillow and automatically clicking on television sports. Maggie stood uncertainly. Now that he'd made it home, she could probably leave him to himself. He'd refused to go to an urgent care doctor, instead calling his own physician, who made house calls.
"Would you like a blanket while you're waiting, Michael?" she asked him.
"That'd be great, Mags," he said. "There's a linen closet down the hall past my bedroom." He pointed vaguely without sitting up.
Maggie looked to her left. She'd seen a hallway when they first entered the apartment. She moved in that direction, passing a huge bedroom, and found the linen closet a bit further down the hall. Choosing a white cot
