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“I have a private-duty nurse coming.” She looked at her watch. “She should be here any minute. I’m sure she can assist you.”

“I’ll change my clothes and come back,” he said. He hurried out.

I was quite impressed with how easily Mrs. March could order people to do things. I imagined she could get anything she wanted done.

“Do you know where my mother is?” I asked her.

“I’m sure she’s in the hospital morgue, dear. I’m sorry.”

“Will I see her again?”

“It’s not pleasant to see someone who has passed away, especially a young person.” She took a deep breath and nodded. “But a daughter should say good-bye to her mother. I’ll look into it for you.”

“She used to be very, very pretty,” I said.

“Well, you’re a very pretty young girl, so I know that’s true. Now, don’t you worry. Dr. Milan will get you up and about faster than any other doctor around here can.”

I turned away to look out the window. It was another sunny California day. How could the world be so beautiful after my mother had died? I didn’t mean to, but I started to cry.

“Oh, God,” Mrs. March said. She stood and looked at me.

Just then, the nurse she had hired came into the room. Mrs. March didn’t wait for her to introduce herself or anything. She practically lunged at her.

“Dr. Milan is going to reset that leg right now,” she told her. “The cast wasn’t done correctly. You make our little patient as comfortable as possible. She’s been through the most horrible experience, especially for someone her age.”

The nurse nodded. She was younger than any I had seen so far, younger but heavier, too. Mama would have said she had a body like a turnip. When she smiled at me, though, I saw she was warmer and friendlier than any other nurses I had met. Somewhere under those heavy cheeks slept a pretty face. That was something else Mama might have said.

“This is Jackie,” Mrs. March said.

“Hi, Sasha,” she said, coming over to me to take my hand.

She knew my name without looking at the clipboard. That was good, I thought. Whether she was doing it for Mrs. March’s benefit or mine, I didn’t know, but she started to rearrange my pillow and raise the back of the bed.

“You should be at this angle right now,” she told me. Then she looked at my chart. “She has a mild concussion,” Jackie read aloud, and then looked at Mrs. March.

“I know,” she said.

“Are you nauseous, Sasha?”

“I was. I’m not so much now.”

“I’ll have a neurologist in to see her today,” Mrs. March said. Jackie nodded. Mrs. March looked at her watch. “You’ll be here until eight?”

“Yes, Mrs. March.”

“I’m arranging for another nurse.”

“She might not need round-the-clock, Mrs. March.”

“I’m arranging for another nurse,” she repeated, and looked at Jackie Knee as if she would have her shot if she said another word about it. She just nodded and looked at me, smiling again.

“Don’t worry. We’ll have a good time together,” she told me.

In a surgical blue shirt and pants, Dr. Milan returned with another male aide pushing a gurney.

“I need to take her to another room,” he told Mrs. March.

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll be back later,” she told me. “You do your best to cooperate with Dr. Milan, okay, Sasha?”

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