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

then went back inside to grab my purse.

By three o’clock, the afternoon sun was hitting the yellow brick facade of St. Jude Hospital, casting long, dark shadows across the visitor parking lot.

When I walked back into Room 407, the room was warm and smelled of stale chicken broth. Ben was sitting up in bed, his color remarkably good for a man who had continue reading …