Chapter 11Miranda lay in bed, listless, tracing a hairline crack on the ceiling. In the hall: busy chattering. Visiting hours had just begun and patients’ friends and families swarmed the halls, along with the nurses, doctors, and orderlies who made this resting place for the ill and dying their home.
She felt better. The pain was now little more than a dull throb and she was staying awake for longer and longer periods. Even had the strength to eat something.
A crow landed on her window ledge; its caw causing her to turn her head just in time to see it take flight.
And a small voice whispered in her ear, “Four.”
