After circle time, Mrs. Elizabeth tucks her hand inside my elbow and tells me to come with her. “When is breakfast?” I ask, toying with small talk, but also, I’m hungry.
“No breakfast for you, Mrs. Anderson,” she says. “You’re on a liquid diet.”
I struggle to keep up with her. “When can I expect my liquid breakfast then?”
She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she halts and looks down at her chart. I watch as her eyes scan the page. “A smoothie was left on your bedside table.” She points and looks to see if my eyes follow. “I see here it was reported as being empty…”
Vanessa.
Vanessa.“Mrs. Anderson?” She turns to me and places her hands on my shoulders. The clipboard rests against my back. I wonder how useful of a weapon it might be. I wonder if I could make it to the end of the hall and if
