“Genelle?” he said again. I squeezed his hand some more. That’s when he knew for sure it was me. He smiled with relief, then tenderly whispered words that I will never forget: “Why didn’t you get out when I told you to?” I smiled, or at least I felt like I was smiling, as a single joy-filled teardrop flowed from my left eye and streamed down my cheek. Roger gently wiped it away as he began to cry with me. “Oh, Genelle,” he said. “Thank God you’re here. Thank God.”
