The light behind my bed showed the bags beneath her eyes, and she lifted her arm, yawning into the crook of her elbow.

“When was the last time you slept?”

As her arm dropped, she hugged it across her navel, as though that were the only thing keeping her from falling off the seat. “I took a nap a few hours ago. But in an actual bed? That would be the night before the marathon.”

I knew exactly how long ago that was. How many hours. I could even break it into minutes.

“I realize I’m the patient here, and I shouldn’t be giving you advice, but I hope you’ve at least gotten something to eat.”

She smiled, and the aching in my spine suddenly faded a little. “My best friend brought me some cookies from our favorite bakery.” Her brows rose, her finger lifting into the air. “One sec. I’ll be right back.” She rushed out of the room, returning just as quickly with a small box in her hands. “You need to have one. They’re truly the best things ever.”

There were several different flavors inside, the chunk of Oreo on one immediately selling me, and I grabbed the large cookie and took a bite.

“Shit,” I groaned. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I don’t understand how they’re still gooey; she dropped them off hours ago.” She was sitting in the same seat, speaking behind her hand as she chewed. “Emily would say that’s some sorcery shit right there.”

I laughed at her impersonation, how her voice had changed to a Boston accent. “I don’t know how,” I replied, swallowing, “but they even made the Oreo melt.” The chocolate-based cookie was slowly washing away the terrible dinner the hospital had served. I held up the small amount I had left and added, “Thank you for this.”

“I’m happy it made you smile.”

I hadn’t realized that was what I’d been doing, but I felt it stay, even after I finished eating.

She opened the lid, holding the box in my direction. “Another?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m good.”

As she took the last bite, she came over to the bed, adjusting my pillow, changing the placement of my neck. Even though my headache hadn’t returned, I still wasn’t able to get comfortable, and rolling around, testing different spots, wasn’t an option.

“How’s that?” she asked.

“Better.”

She assessed the height of the top of the bed along with the bottom, lifting one and lowering the other before she sat back down.

By the time she crossed her legs, an idea had come to me, one I couldn’t believe I hadn’t already thought of.

“Whitney, I have a proposition for you.”

She had dug into another cookie and was mid-chew when she replied, “Oh yeah?”