Violet plastered a smile to her face. “Johnny, I know you’re going through a horrible time, but...”

“A horrible time?” Johnny turned his eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, Vi, it’s kind of difficult. I killed my sister. My mother is upstairs having a nervous breakdown. My body is broken into pieces, and nothing—are you listening, Violet?—works from the waist down.” He offered her a grimacing smile.

“We’re all praying for you, Johnny.”

“Save your prayers. God has already decided how to punish me. I’ll never walk again. I’ll never stand up again. All I want to do is die, and I promise you, I will find a way.” He closed his eyes. “Get out, Violet. I am no longer your boyfriend. Find someone else.”

“This is nonsense, Johnny. You are going to be fine. The doctors will help you...” Violet twisted her hands in desperation. Johnny was shaking his head violently back and forth.

“I am begging you: get out of this room and don’t come back, Violet. If you have someone with you, tell them I don’t want to see them. I want to be alone. Do you understand?”

Violet patted the stack of cards in her lap. “People at school sent these for you,” she sobbed. “I’ll leave them on your bed.”

“Take the goddamn cards with you. Leave, Violet. Please.” He slapped the bedsheets. Violet saw tears streaming to the bandages on his head.

“I love you, Johnny. I’ll always love you. I can help you...”

“I don’t want your help. Unless you can help me die right here and now, there is no reason for you to be here.”

“You’ll feel better...”

“When? When they bring my wheelchair? When I roll into Kimmie’s funeral? Do you know why I wrecked that damned car, Violet? I was hurrying to get her to Tuscaloosa so I could get back Saturday night and see you. I ditched practice and left early.”

Violet palmed the tears from her face. “Please let me try to help you through this. We can be happy together. We’ll find a way.”

“Violet,” he glared at her, “I want nothing to do with you. Nothing.”

She placed the cards next to his leg and Johnny swept them to the floor. He threw his arm over his eyes. Violet yanked the door open and ran to the only place she could: Red’s arms. He jumped from the bench to enfold her.

“What’s wrong? Violet, honey...” Red threaded his hand into her hair and pushed her head harder into his shoulder, wondering what Johnny had said or done to reduce her to choking sobs. She stayed there for at least a minute. The nurses at the station watched silently. As Red and Violet walked away, one started out for Johnny Perkins’ room.