“I’m driving up tonight, as soon as I can leave here,” Aunt Tammy said. “There shouldn’t be any traffic on the Five, and I’m hoping to get to Woodacre by seven or eight in the morning. The hospital knows to call me if anything changes.”

“Okay,” I said. Joan’s eyes closed again.

“The nurse I spoke to earlier said you helped out a lot by giving them the time of the stroke,” Aunt Tammy said.

I sat down in the chair. My legs were shaky. “It all happened very fast.”

Aunt Tammy continued to talk, but I didn’t register her words. I suddenly remembered Analemma barking her head off in my room.

“Shit,” I said.

“What’s wrong?”

“I left Analemma in my room. But I left the front door open.”

“You left—are you sure?”

“Yes. I followed the paramedics out—I didn’t know what to do. I just ran after them.”

“Woodacre’s pretty safe. I think it’ll be okay. But when did Analemma go out last?” Aunt Tammy’s voice was brisk, as if she were working through an engineering problem.

“A long time ago. Maybe this morning. We took her on a hike.”

“Okay, you need to go home and take her out. Don’t panic, it’ll be all right. She’s a very good dog.”

“But what about Joan? Shouldn’t I stay with her? They said they’re going to move her somewhere.”

“They’re waiting for a bed to open up in the ICU. I don’t know how long it’ll be. They’re going to call me when she’s moved. I think you can go home.” She gave a sudden nervous laugh that showed how tense she was. “In fact, I’d really like for you to go home right now and take Analemma out and then lock the front door.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry! I’m so stupid.”

“No, no, it was an emergency. Go home and call me when you get there so I know everything’s okay.”

“Okay.” I glanced at Joan again. Her eyes were still closed. I left the room and said to Aunt Tammy, “I’ll call you soon.”

Back in the waiting room, I explained to the nurse that I had to leave. She didn’t seem surprised by this, only checked to make sure they had contact information for me and Aunt Tammy. I headed outside, Joan’s purse banging against my hip, when I realized I didn’t have a ride home. I halted, the doors whooshing shut behind me. It was dark. The parking lot was lit by regularly spaced streetlamps that shone calmly over rows of cars.