“Well, there’s a way to find out,” Dani says. She moves to the base of my bed, carefully frees my foot from under the covers, then fishes a set of keys from her pocket and digs one into the nail bed of my big toe.

“What are you doing?” Anna asks, alarmed.

“Pain reflex. It’s one of the techniques the doctors use.” Dani continues grinding the key.

Though I can’t feel anything other than my worsening stomachache, I’m pretty pissed off at Brett for passively watching Dani gouge my flesh. If I ever do wake up, I will be bringing this issue to marriage counseling.

“Stop, please.” Anna puts her hand on Dani’s arm. “Enough.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dani says, startled. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She drops the keys back into her pocket with a jangle.

“It’s not you, dear.” Anna takes Kleenex from her purse and presses it to her eyes.

Brett takes a breath and shakes his whole body like a dog after a bath. He checks his watch then retrieves his script. Pink plastic tabs stick out where he’s marked his scenes. “Time to skedaddle,” He kisses my cheek then picks up the framed photo of himself and examines it critically before replacing it on the nightstand.

Daddy enters from the bathroom as Anna retrieves his sport coat from the chair.

“Okay, Sidney. Let’s get you back to work.” She hands Daddy his Jacket, collects her purse and sweater, and turns to Dani. “I want you to know how much we appreciate what you and the staff have been doing for Jackie.”

“Of course, Mrs. Goldstein. If you have any questions, please feel free to call me anytime, here or at home.” She hands a card to Anna.

“That is generous of you.” Anna leans down and kisses my forehead.

“Call us if anything changes,” my father says, shrugging his jacket up over his shoulders.

“Of course, Mr. Goldstein,” she says with a little curtsy. “By the way,” she lowers her voice, “there are a few reporters outside the main lobby. Take the service elevator and go out through the cafeteria.”

Brett pulls his cap lower. “Thanks for the warning.”

As Anna and Daddy walk out the door, Dani taps Brett’s shoulder and holds out her card.

“Here’s one for you,” she says like it was an afterthought.

She slides it into Brett’s jacket pocket and gives it a pat pat.

“Oh, I don’t think…okay well, thanks,” Brett says in the polite way he reserves for women who’ve shoved not just phone numbers in his pockets but panties.