22
Ginny
We’re at the children’s hospital in Bean’s room.
Liam, Enid, Clark, Heather, Joel, Redge, Finick. Everyone’s here. It’s been twenty hours and she still hasn’t woken up. The heart monitor keeps up a steady beat, and I don’t know whether I love it for saying she’s still here with us, or hate it, because she has to be on it. The doctor’s said that the physical and emotional stress of “the event” caused this. That it was too much in her weakened state.
“Drink some coffee,” says Enid.
She hands me a Styrofoam cup full of black hospital sludge. I shake my head. I don’t want it. Enid sighs and sets it on the bedside table. The room is small, maybe ten by ten, and with eight of us in here, it’s near bursting. The high emotions in the room are almost too much for me. I just want every
