Chapter Twenty-Four
Adalia couldn’t stop praying. She sat beside Isaac’s bed with one hand on his tiny, frail arm and the other balled into a fist in her lap. She wouldn’t let him die. She wouldn’t let her son go now.
Dr. Matheson stood in front of the short, brown table attached to the end of the hospital bed and made notes in Isaac’s file.
“He’s stabilized?” Matheson asked.
“Yes,” Nurse Nancy replied, casting glances at Adalia. “But that’s not why I called you, doctor. I think Mrs. Dawson is on the verge of collapse. She needs help.”
“I’m fine,” Adalia croaked, and Nancy jumped slightly, a shuffle to the right.
“You need to rest, Adalia,” Nancy replied.
“No, I can’t rest. I won’t leave him, now or ever again.” She stroked Isaac’s tiny hand with her thumb, feeling around the inside
