Dawn Goodwin

Now Stacey could see how the years had left their mark on each of them.

She lies in the bed, still, too still.

fingers pick at each other

felt like ice had been poured down her throat and into her chest

ignoring it. Her eyes see only the girl in the hospital bed. Occasionally, her eyes flick to the lines and numbers on the screen next to the bed, the blips and dips, the ticks and whirs, as it does the hard work of

Lisa felt heat rise in her cheeks.