My Childhood Sweetheart Asked Me to Sign a Special Folder in Room Four Hundred Seven

breath.

“Is something wrong with his medication?” I asked, holding my paper coffee cup with both hands.

“He’s lying to you,” she said, her voice a rapid, hushed whisper. “They both are. Dr. Klein and your husband.”

She tapped her clipboard against her thigh, the plastic clicking against the fabric of her blue scrubs.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my fingers continue reading …