She stopped long enough for her gaze to dart across the room to the welcome desk and then ran to it. “My son is here. EJ Michaels. He’s a kid.” The lady smiled. “Okay. Just a moment as I look him up.” Krista took a deep breath and glanced around at the waiting room, seeing many ill and hurt people. She hated this place. It was so cold and unwelcoming. Couldn’t they spruce it up? Make it feel a little more happy as people waited. Finally the lady spoke. “If you go through that door,” she pointed, “and then turn left, you’ll look for room 918. Hurry, he’s about to be discharged, from my understanding.” That was a relief. Krista thanked her and made her way to her son. As soon as room 918 was in sight, she could hear EJ laughing. “EJ.” She burst into the room. “Mom.” He hopped off the table, looking the same as she’d seen him last. She ran her hands all over his body, feeling for anything out of place. “Are you okay? Sit back down.” “He’s fine, ma’am.
