Marla slapped Carlton’s shoulder and he recoiled. “Marla! Ouch! I almost died; this is blood on my bed!”

“That’s Kool-Aid. You spilled it all over yourself about an hour ago.” Marla rolled her eyes.

“John?” Carlton suddenly spotted him in the doorway, hanging back so far he was almost in the hall. John waved, smiling slightly.

“Looks like they have you patched up pretty good,” he said, nodding toward Carlton’s bandages.

“Yeah.” Something’s wrong. Carlton considered John for a moment, but before he could formulate a question, a nurse stepped briskly into the room.

“Visiting time’s over for now,” she said apologetically. “We need to run some tests.”

Clay stepped up to the bed, displacing Marla briefly. “Get some rest, huh?” he said, and patted the top of Carlton’s head.

“Dad,” he groaned. “I’m not five.” Clay smiled and headed for the door; John stopped him.

“You’re going to keep looking for Charlie?” he asked.

“Of course,” Clay said reassuringly, but gave him a confused look before leaving the room.

“You’re not going to find her,” John said softly. The rest of them watched, discomfited, as John slipped out the door without another word, not waiting for anyone else.

“Hey, we found this next to you. I wasn’t sure if it was important,” Jessica said, pulling Carlton’s attention back, and handed him a folded piece of paper, heavy with crayon marks within. He unfolded it, revealing a grassy hill with five children running over it, the sun overhead.

“Yours?” Jessica asked.

“Yeah.” Carlton smiled. “Mine.”

“Okay.” Jessica gave him a suspicious look, then returned the smile, leaving the room. Carlton held the drawing close and gazed out the window.

*  *  *

He had come into the room cautiously, afraid to wake her up. The room was dark except for the light filtering in through the small dirty window, and she peered at him for a moment as if she could not see him.

“John?” she whispered at last.

“Yeah, did I wake you up?”

She was so quiet for a time that he thought she was asleep, then she murmured, “You said you loved me.”

The memory turned bitter here, and it had been nagging at him ever since—since everything ended. You said you loved me, she said, and he had babbled nonsense in response.

He stood in the gravel parking lot for a moment, feeling woefully unprepared. He tapped his hand nervously on the metal fence post, then took a deep breath and went through the gate. Slowly, he followed the path he had once watched Charlie take, hindered a little by the brace on his ankle. Most of the cemetery was as green and well kept as any park, but this corner was all scrubby grass and dirt. Two small, plain tombstones sat together just beside the fence, a telephone pole rising behind them like a sheltering tree.