things.
It wasn’t mine.
When I asked the nurse about it, she hesitated before saying, “I thought it belonged to the woman who kept visiting him.”
I remember the room becoming strangely quiet.
“What woman?”
The nurse looked at me with an expression that immediately told me she had said something she wasn’t supposed to.
“I assumed she was a relative,” she explained.
But my husband, Jack, had grown up in foster care. As far as he knew, he had no family left. There were no sisters, no aunts, no
