Jacob
Daniel looked toward the waiting room.
“I need coffee,” he said.
I almost said I would come.
Then Lizzie called my name.
I turned.
She stood near the waiting room entrance, arms folded loosely, her face soft but watchful.
“Can you sit with us?” Lizzie asked. “Mom is upset.”
Of course.
I could be useful there.
I knew how to be useful there.
I followed her back.
Ruth sat rigidly in the corner chair. Lizzie sat beside her. I took the chair across from them, the rehab folder still open on the side table like the day had not just shifted into something none of us understood.
Lizzie reached for my hand.
I let her take it.
Her fingers slid between mine, familiar and warm.
“I’m sorry,” Lizzie said softly. “This is all so much.”
“Yes.”
She watched me for a moment.
“You’re s
