CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
quiet, at last
I refuse to leave Finan’s room, so they pull in a vinyl chair monstrosity that magically turns into a bed. A nurse brings in a stack of blankets fresh from the warmer, and Catrina makes up a cozy bed for me. Everyone takes turns popping in to check on Finan, offering their best wishes. Security has been set up outside the private room, though I’ve not seen Len Emmerich since I came up hours ago. I’m sure there is much debriefing and paperwork to manage, but I also hope he’s gotten some stitches, a hot meal, and a nap.
Tonight, though, is about quiet and healing. No more visitors after 9:00 p.m. Me watching Finan as he sleeps—not an easy task for him, given the nurses hustle in every hour or so—me tossing and turning on this “bed,” flinching every time
