“Depends,” he said. “Are they bringing another needle?”
The nurse laughed. “Not this time.”
“Then… maybe.”
“Visitors?” I asked. “Who?”
She didn’t answer. She just stepped aside.
Four men stood in the corridor.
They wore Marine Corps dress blues. White gloves. Brass buttons gleaming under the fluorescent lights. They stood so straight and so still that the whole hallway seemed to go quiet around them.
Caleb’s mouth fell open.
“Mom,” he breathed. “Those are Marines.”
The oldest of them, gray at the temples, stepped forward and removed his cover.
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