FORTY
The afternoon moved at a crawl. Charlie napped on and off. James might have slept some, too. When he opened his eyes Charlie was sitting up in bed looking at him.
“You do this wheeze thing when you’re sleeping,” she said, a cocky grin lit one corner of her mouth.
James felt a little disoriented. He looked around the room. The blue curtain, still drawn, separated the unit in half. Without a window, he had no idea what time it was. The brightly lit hospital made every minute perpetually noon. This could not be the case. The rumble in his belly told him it had to be closing in on five.
James blinked away the sleep from his eyes and stretched his arms up over his head. “You mean I was snoring?”
“If you were snoring, I’d have to wake you up.” She batted her eyelids. “It’s not like we
