Judith took the makeshift icepack from his hand and examined it. She had made the pack by placing ice from the ice machine in the hall in the plastic liner of the ice bucket and wrapping that in a towel from the bathroom. He sat on the bed, she stood next to him. “I think it’s fine.” “Let me see.” Luke tilted his head up and Judith gazed down on a growing knot on the right side of his forehead. She looked at his eyes: both pupils were equal. A good sign. “That has to hurt.” “You have no idea. How’s the kid?” “He and Ida are snoozing on the sofa. Both are exhausted, especially Ida. Fear and worry are hard taskmasters. She looks worn out. We should switch rooms with them.” Luke had arranged for two rooms but decided they should stick together. This room on the eleventh floor was a suite with a separate bedroom and living room. A small kitchenette was tucked into one of the corners. “I don’t think we should stay.” Judith handed the cold pack back. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.
