22 Predictions and Calls
Amalie walked through the labyrinth of the hospital in a daze, another pot of gumbo in her hands. She didn’t get lost, though, so familiar were its halls and lifts. She might have ignored the waves from a few nurses and orderlies, though. It wasn’t intentional. Hopefully they understood.
The evening had been a roller coaster, first weeping for Brant, then kissing him, then fitfully tossing and turning all night. Finally Amalie had gotten out of bed. Dawn hadn’t broken, but she couldn’t sleep anyway. Might as well do something.
Amalie stood before the door to Monique’s room without remembering how she got there.
“Open.”
The door slid open without a sound, and Amalie stepped into the cold room with a shiver. She’d have to get thicker skin or wear a warm doctor
