I wondered where she was tonight, that sweet girl. I wondered if her tears had dried and she was sitting somewhere with a novel on her lap, that tatty pink bookmark gripped in the front cover. I wondered if she was thinking of me, the way I was thinking of her. Her body had fit against mine so perfectly. Heart racing and crying out for the steadiness of mine. Her cries had been so raw and so true. Her eyes filled with such genuine hurt for others’ pain. She had so much of that hurt coming, so many days ahead on the ward. The last thing I should do was add more.
