Rosie rested beneath Lucy’s hand. The blue scrap from Michael’s childhood bear remained tied beneath the yellow ribbon, where Rook had placed it months earlier.
Eli took over the reading.
He reached the final page, closed the book, and told Lucy about his day. He had earned a perfect score on a spelling test. A girl named Amanda had traded him two cookies for an apple. Their neighbor’s dog had eaten part of a couch.
Lucy’s index finger moved.
Eli stopped.
Everyone else did too.
Her finger moved again, curling into Rosie’s fur.
The monitor accelerated.
Michael stepped forward but Whitaker raised one hand.
“Give her space.”
Lucy’s eyelids trembled.
Opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Her gaze wandered without focus. She did not look at Eli, the bear, or any of us. Her mouth moved, but only air emerged.
Eli stood beside the bed, both fists pressed against his lips.
