I stood there, my hand curled around Connor’s tiny one, until the privacy curtains were pulled open again and a gray-haired man in one of those white doctor’s coats stepped in, a chart tucked up under his arm. Beau had taken a seat in the one chair on the other side of the bed. He got to his feet as the man came forward.

He introduced himself to Beau as they shook hands, and they both came up to the bed where I stood. I saw Beau say, “Just . . . slow,” and the man nodded.

DOCTOR W-E-S-L-E-Y, Beau started to sign, pointing to the man, and I nodded, stumbling my way through introducing myself in sign language.

WHAT HAPPENED? I signed, motioning to Connor.

Beau listened for a moment, then turned to me. HE HAVE . . . Beau paused as soon as he began and then said something like, “In . . . please.” A second later, he started finger spelling, C-O-L-L-A-P-S-E-D L-U-N-G.

A collapsed lung was always a possibility when you had cystic fibrosis, but the fact that it happened to my little brother—when having a collapsed lung could kill you—was beyond my comprehension. I could’ve lost my brother tonight.

I curled my fingers tighter around Connor’s hand, not caring that a fresh wave of tears was threatening to yank me under the surface again.

HE OK NOW? I signed with one hand, not moving my eyes from Connor’s face.

Beau had to wave a hand to get me to look at him again, and he signed, OK NOW, BUT HE STAY FOR A FEW DAYS.

Beau explained a nurse would be over soon to move Connor to his new room on a different floor. I waited until Dr. Wesley left us to sign to Beau, THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP.

NO PROBLEM, he signed back, a weak smile on his face.

YOU GO HOME NOW, I signed next.

I would be forever grateful Beau went out of his way to come down here in the middle of the night to help me, but I wanted to be left alone with my little brother now. I couldn’t see myself able to stop crying anytime soon, and I hated when people saw me crying. Beau had seen me doing a whole a lot of it.

OK IF I STAY? Beau signed in response. WAIT FOR YOUR MOTHER WITH YOU, he added when I gave him a skeptical look.

I don’t know why he wasn’t jumping at the chance to get out of here. This had to be awkward and uncomfortable, not to mention inconvenient.

I gave up trying to deduce his reasoning and signed, OK.

FIND RESTROOM, Beau told me as he reached for the privacy curtains. COME BACK SOON.