That same morning, Lorenzo was in the kitchen.
"Does Elena like scrambled eggs?" He cracked eggs into a pan. "Too plain. I need something that lands. Something that shows her I mean it."
"She likes simple food," the cook said. "But she loves fish and shrimp. Do her a shrimp and egg, and a fish soup. The calcium's good for a broken bone."
Lorenzo nodded and got to work.
Two hours later he had a spread. Three dishes and a soup.
He packed it all into a thermal carrier and drove to the clinic.
It was the first time he'd ever cooked for me.
"She'll be moved," he told himself. "She'll smile. She'll go pink."
He opened the door to my room.
It was empty.
Something in his chest dropped.
Where was I? I was on crutches. I couldn't have gone far. The bathroom, maybe. Maybe a nurse had taken
