“There you are, Mrs. Davis. How are you feeling?”
“Thirsty,” I whispered.
She gave me a cup with a straw and held it while I took a sip. The water felt like heaven.
“Where are my kids?” I asked.
She took the cup away. She set it on the tray table. She adjusted my blanket, even though it didn’t need adjusting.
She would not meet my eyes.
“They were here during the surgery,” Kayla said softly. “All three of them. In the family waiting room.”
“Okay.”
“But they left. About an hour ago.”
I lay there and looked at her. I was still foggy from the anesthesia. Everything felt slow and far away, like I was underwater.
“Why?” I asked. “Did something happen? Is somebody sick?”
Her fingers tightened around the tablet she was holding. I watched her knuckles go a little white.
“They said,” she started. She stopped. She tried again. “They said the parking was getting too expensive.”
