Emerson races home and manages to get us there long before the ambulance. While we wait, he takes me up to the second floor to show me the room my brother will be in. We stop in front of a door, Emerson gesturing for me to go in. I hesitate, my hand tightening on the knob like I can somehow brace myself for what is on the other side. But nothing really prepares you for this, does it? I open the door with my eyes closed, pausing in the doorway like not opening them would somehow make this feel less real.
The room still has traces of what it used to be… Luxurious and grand. The walls are painted a light yellow with intricate crown molding in white. Floor-to-ceiling windows leading to a balcony with thick room darkening curtains in black. But now, instead of a fancy bed sitting between the n
