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

his voice dropping an octave. “We have a protocol to follow.”

He turned toward the door, his movements hurried, his academic composure slipping just enough for me to notice the slight tremor in his fingers.

“I will review the evening charts shortly,” he added, already opening the door. “Make sure he gets his rest.”

He slipped out of continue reading …