It was faint but steady. She blew out a breath. This had been a close one. More than one time while they worked on her, Clara had been afraid that Miss Melody was never going to see Netflix again. They’d all been relieved when they got a pulse. Until she was conscious, they had no way of knowing how much damage, if any, had been caused, but she was alive. Right now, that was all that mattered. Clara stepped back from the bed and reached for the pillow that had gotten kicked under the bed while they were working on Miss Melody. She’d get a new pillowcase from the linen closet. She looked down at Miss Melody once more and frowned. What in the world had happened? Clara had checked on the senior just thirty minutes before. Nothing in her vitals had indicated that her heart was under any more stress than normal. The doctor had dismissed it as the stress of the hip surgery and Miss Melody’s weak heart, but Clara couldn’t help but feel that something was off. From a medical standpoint, the doctor’s assessment was sound.
