The chaplain’s hand was warm as he slipped out the heavy wooden door, leaving the room very still.
Ben let go of my fingers and leaned back against the stiff hospital pillows, his eyes already half-closed. The thin gold band on his finger caught the harsh fluorescent light from the hallway, looking too bright against his skin.
The wall clock above the sink read ten past nine.
The door clicked open again, and Nurse Evelyn stepped into the room, her rubber-soled shoes silent on the floor. The sharp smell of institutional floor wax hung in the air, thick and clean, mixing with the scent of rubbing alcohol.
