She clutched the plastic guardrail of her bed, feeling her own anxiety escalate as she watched it reflected in the faces of the onlookers. Expressions of horror and sympathy surrounded her. She waited for someone to say a word, to offer support or advice, but they stayed inexplicably silent. Seve...
Zoe awoke to the sensation of a cold wet compress against her sweaty forehead. Her mother’s arms tightened around her from behind, hoisting her up. Wait, not her mother. The arms were covered with brown hair, strong and muscular. And then she remembered: Galileo. “You’re back,” he said, in a voic...