Beyond the threshold of the door the world still churns from the attack. The blur of passing trollies and urgent voices signal more arrivals. She wonders how many she didn't save.
But inside Room 108, it is quiet, and the night has painted everything in shades of blue. A bouquet of delphiniums sits on a nearby table. He waits for her.
"Hi, poppy." His voice cracks in the whisper. "I didn't know if you were ever gonna wake up again."
"I wish I hadn't."
The silence between them spans an oceanone large enough that he could fill it with every word he'd never said to her.
"The boys at work pitched in," he tries again, "We bought a headstone for the baby. It's in a real pretty spot, too. I'll take you as soon as you're better."
"Any more reports? Nobody saw me change, did they?" she asked. It was a constant fear.
"No. Doctor Loera took the 'monster' in for an autopsy," he explains. "We've got to send that man a thank-you card."
She looks away from him and to the window. The stars become small, smeared pinpricks as another wave of tears hits her. Her womb feels empty.
"Maybe..." he begins. "You weren't meant to save everyone. I've been thinking...Maybe we can go somewhere and put all this behind us. We can try again."
She hopes for a place where he isn't dead.