“Sure.” Avery absently sipped her coffee. “I asked around about her at group the other night. She was tense, agitated, having a hard time on the eighth or ninth.”

“When did you do this?” Jordan asked.

“While you were sleeping here. I needed to get out. Went to a meeting and thought about Tammy. Kill two birds with one stone. And before you freak, I was careful.”

“No freaking out,” Jordan said.

Spencer was not sure he believed Jordan. “I better get going. When I know something, I’ll contact you,” he said.

Jordan retraced the rim of her cup’s lid. “I’m counting on it.”

Jordan fumbled around for the television remote for nearly two minutes before she found it lodged between her mattress and the rail. It was as satisfying as it was frustrating. A simple task should not be this hard.

She turned on the television. With the afternoon sunlight streaming into her hospital window, her vision did not equate to total darkness. To her relief, she could see light flicker by the window and could discern the outline of the television screen’s glow. Still like driving in a thick, dark fog.

She listened to the television station, determined it was broadcasting news, and then switched to the sound of a man with a lively voice commentating on three cooks racing through a grocery store. Normally, when she decompressed after a long shift, she gravitated to reality shows like this. However, without her vision, she was missing so much.

A knock at her door had her fumbling for the power button. The first button she pressed jacked the sound up. Frustrated, she felt around the buttons for the one below it and pressed hard until the sound muted. “Come in.”

“Jordan, it’s Rogan.”

Relief warmed her. A familiar voice. Unlike with Avery and Spencer, she did not feel as if she had to keep her guard up. “Hey. Thanks for coming by.”

He crossed the room and took her hand gently. Spencer and Captain Lee had both seemed almost afraid to touch her.

“I spoke to Avery,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

Tightness fisted in her chest. The tears she had refused to acknowledge bubbled to the surface, brimming in her eyes. “I’m not going to lie.” Her voice broke, and she could barely whisper, “It sucks.”

A chair scraped against the floor closer to her bed. “Avery is holding up well.”

“Is she? I’m worried this might be too much stress.”

“She seems to be handling it like a champ.”

“Keep an eye on her for me, would you? She’s not as tough as she looks.” She swiped away a tear.

“How are you?”