He told me he needed me to stay close.
Not close in the way that required explanation, but close in the practical sense. Present. In the building. Available. He said it quietly, standing in that corridor outside his father's door at half past three in the morning, with Doña Carmen waiting at the far end and the nurse somewhere behind us and the protocols already gathering themselves like weather.
I said yes. Then I went to my room and sat on the edge of the bed and gave myself ten minutes to feel the full weight of the night before I had to become the person who was ready for the morning.
Ten minutes. Then I got up, washed my face, and went to make sure Lucas didn't find out from anyone other than me.
He was awake before I got there.
I don't know how, children sense things in the air
