“If the pain gets worse in the middle of the night, knock on the wall or yell. I don’t want to see you wincing at breakfast and find out I could’ve done something to help,” she says. “Same for you. If you need another Band-Aid or fresh gauze, you know where I am.” “Yeah. I do.” Madeline stands and gives me one last look before turning off my lamp. “Good night, Hudson.” “Night, Mads,” I say, wishing I could’ve found a way to make her stay.
