Leah
The doors slid shut behind me and the hospital noise dulled, like someone had turned the world down a notch. The air outside was colder than I expected, sharp enough to sting the inside of my nose. I took a few steps away from the entrance and stopped under the overhang, staring at the parking lot without really seeing it.
My hands were shaking. Not dramatic, not obvious. Just enough that I had to curl my fingers into my palms to still them.
He’s alive, I told myself. That’s the only thing that matters.
My phone sat heavy in my coat pocket. I didn’t take it out. I didn’t want to look at another message I’d have to pretend didn’t hurt. I didn’t want to see my mother’s name again and feel like I was twelve years old, waiting to be told whether I was allowed to stay in the room.
“Ex
