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damage was irreparable. “I don’t know. I don’t know that
anything will ever be right again. I feel like nothing can make
up for what I’ve done or for what I’ve lost.” Empathy. Dignity.
Self respect. Who I am.
“I know it looks like that now. I have a number for a grief
counsellor if you’d like to talk to someone.”
“No. But thank you.”
Jennifer studied her dubiously, but the caring expression
never wavered. “Here.” She dug in her scrub’s pocket and
pulled out a small notepad, along with a tiny pen, made to fit
it. She scrawled something and handed Coralyn the page.
There was just a string of numbers there. Coralyn felt enraged
at being ignored and handed the stupid number anyway, but
Jennifer pressed the paper into her hand. “It’s my number.
We’re probably not supposed to do that, but you look like you
could use a friend.”
“We’re strangers,” Coralyn blurted.
“We’re not strangers. We’ve gone through this together. I’m
not going anywhere tonight, and I’ll be on again tomorrow
night. You’re not alone, Coralyn, even if you feel like it. Not
now and not after it happens.”
‘It’ being her dad not being here anymore. ‘It’ being the end
of the world.
Jennifer let her clasp the paper close and think about what
she’d said while she moved to check vitals and fill out the
paperwork that the nurses did so often every single shift. After
that, she left Coralyn alone with her dad.
She tucked the paper into her purse, shoved it under her
chair, then clasped her dad’s hand. She bent over the bed and
bathed it with her tears until she had no more left to cry, at
