Hours passed. Days felt like decades.
It was the weekend, and I stayed in Milton for a few extra days until heading back to Lennox to resume my studies. I felt like a traitor by Sunday, and vowed to keep my promise to Rocco that I would stay behind in case he woke up.
I emailed my professors and told them that I would be away for the following week. I knew I didn’t have any major tests, and the only pop quiz was in Introduction to Theory of Literature.
I wasn’t worried about failing the class; I was averaging an A.
But by the end of the week, something miraculous happened, and many prayers were answered—sort of.
My parents had been awakened sometime in the night by a phone call from Milton Memorial Hospital. My parents had left their telephone number at the nurses’ station in case Roc
