Esme was awake when I entered her room, but her gaze was a bit vacant. She’d shown improvement, but she hadn’t had the same miraculous recovery as Lyka. Some days, she reminded me of the aunt who’d brought me trinkets from Mexico City, and other days, she was a shell of a woman I barely recognized.
I sat down next to her and squeezed her hand. “How’re you feeling?” I asked gently, not wanting to startle her.
She blinked a few times before she looked at me. “Oh. Hello, Celeste,” she said.
Okay, well…that’s a good start. At least she isn’t confusing me with Enora today.
I smiled and gave her hand another little squeeze. “Hi, Esme. Are you okay?”
She slowly nodded. “Yes,” she said, looking me up and down. “Tired, that’s all.”
Her speech still seemed slow, but beggars couldn’t be chooser
