As hard as she tried, Emma couldn’t keep from drifting off. She awoke with a crick in her neck, embarrassed that the nurses might have watched her sleep. She shifted in her chair a few feet from the ICU and willed herself to keep her eyes open. Maybe if she moved around… She stood, pushed through the double doors, and strode down a long hallway. In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face for a good two or three minutes. Then she washed her hands with the foamy, green liquid soap that came from an enormous upside-down dispenser. She inhaled its odd, harsh smell of apple. Her stomach heaved. Quickly, she fled the bathroom and began marching back and forth in the hallway. “Hello, Emma.” The timid voice pulled her from a painful reverie. With great reluctance, Emma looked up. A huge pink purse on one shoulder and a cell phone in her hand, Sarah stood at the double doors. “How he is?” Emma returned to her pacing. “The same.” A tiny sob burbled from the girl’s lips.
