“What hospital?”
She told me.
And in one of those moments that feels too arranged to be random, it turned out to be not far from the bus route at all.
Close enough that if I got off at the next stop, took a cab, I could be there in an hour.
After learning this from the driver, I called Ellen back.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’m one stop away.”
“Then come,” she said, and something cracked in her voice. “Please come now.”
I don’t remember the next stretch of road clearly.
Only that I prayed for the first time in years with real desperation.
I bargained, pleaded, and begged the world not to make me late twice in one life.
At the next stop, I got off and found a cab.
By the time I reached the hospital, my hands were trembling so badly I had to sign in as slowly as possible for my signature to appear as mine.
