I trust Donnelly. “He. Can’t. Leave,” I repeat, almost out of breath. I’m working myself up, and her hatred of him volleys into concern for me. “Ditto,” he says to the nurse. “Can’t leave. Stuck here like glue.” His hand still tightly clings to mine. “I’m getting your doctor.” “Do that,” Donnelly tells her. “Go get my best friend, Becky.”
