Alexander helped the orderly transfer her to a transport wheelchair.

He was surprisingly gentle, supporting her frail shoulders with his large hands.

“Thank you,” she mumbled to him, squinting through the gloom. “You look like… Thomas.”

Alexander froze for a fraction of a second, then forced a polite nod. “Just a friend, ma’am.”

We wheeled her out through the side exit to avoid the main lobby.

The rain was pouring harder now, coming down in heavy sheets.

Alexander helped me lift her into the backseat of the sedan, wrapping her in a thick wool blanket we had taken from her closet.

I climbed into the driver’s seat, my hands shaking as I put the key in the ignition.

Alexander got in front, his eyes scanning the mirrors.

Just as I pulled away from the curb, a black SUV turned the corner, its headlights cutting through the dark.

It slowed down as it passed the front entrance of St. Jude’s.

“Don’t look,” Alexander said, his hand resting on the dashboard. “Keep driving. Normal speed.”

I watched the rearview mirror.