“I don’t know, but I’m sure I can find one. You think that’ll do it? We have a lot more of these things to put on her.”

“Can we do them once she’s asleep?” Izabel said. “In that first hour, nothing can wake her.”

When the nurse came back with a red lollipop, Cami let her put bands around her chest and stomach, but she still complained about the oxygen monitor. The nurse moved it from her finger to her toe, and then put a blanket over Cami. They could all see it glow under the white blanket, like a lost ship.

The nurse sat down in a chair and pretended to fall asleep.

Cami finished the red lollipop and handed the sticky post of it to Izabel. She said she didn’t like the monitor on her toe either. Izabel told her the nurse was asleep so they couldn’t move it. And Izabel began to sing, “Los pollitos dicen, ‘pío pío pío.’”

Cami fell asleep, and the nurse went back to work, placing electrodes on her face and chest. She used a paste to stick a few onto Cami’s head, parting her delicate black hair. The last thing the nurse did was place a small plastic tube under Cami’s nose, with a plastic prong at each nostril.

“What do all these things do?” Izabel asked.

“I have a handout about it if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. What do I do?”

“You try to get some sleep. That chair I was in reclines into a bed. Or a bedlike chair at least.”

“I’ve been in them before,” Izabel said. “Thank you.”

“Opa is watching,” the nurse added as she left the room.

Izabel lay back in the chair and opened her app. She wanted to see how twenty-five-years-ago Tampa was doing with their killer. The top headline for the day was “Tampa Mayor on Mystery Killer: ‘Bring me his head.’” The article was filled with more of the mayor’s quotes, and Izabel liked how passionate he was. Another article had a video of surveillance footage of the suspect flipping an old flip phone. Another was about a $35,000 reward for information leading to an arrest.

Old Tampa was still in the shit, too.

Opa came in and said, “I noticed you still aren’t asleep. Do you want me to give you something?”

Izabel said yes.

Izabel had a dream about a wedding that Andy was about to have. But even in the dream Izabel knew Andy wasn’t getting married. Worse, Izabel’s mother was there, and Izabel knew that couldn’t be true either.

And Izabel, being the kind of woman she was, she couldn’t just enjoy it, dreaming of her.