“Only for a moment,” Dr. Rao said. “She is in the intensive care unit.”

She led us down a long corridor with grey walls and bright fluorescent lights.

Every door we passed had a small window, and inside I could see people lying in big beds.

We stopped at the very end of the hall.

Through the glass of the door, I saw Mama.

She looked so small under the white hospital blankets, surrounded by tall machines that beeped in a slow, steady rhythm.

Her face was pale, and a thick white bandage was wrapped around her head.

“Mama,” I whispered, reaching my hand out to touch the cold glass.

Ethan set me down on a plastic chair next to the door.

He stood right behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder.

His grip was tight, and I could feel his fingers trembling against my coat.

His phone vibrated in his pocket again, the dull buzz loud in the quiet hallway.

He pulled it out and answered it, stepping a few feet away so his voice wouldn’t carry.

“Paul,” he said.