Chapter 8

The IV pole on wheels wobbles, and I throw out a hand to steady it. When I’m certain it’s not in danger of falling or rolling away, I let go and slide my arms around Sammy.

“Don’t go, Care Bear,” he mumbles and buries his face in my neck, but before I have time to even take a breath, running feet approach our position.

I raise my head as a nurse closes in on us with a focused look on her face. “He’s all right,” I call. “He disconnected himself, but he’s all right.”

The nurse—Ann, according to her name tag—is not happy, and we are thoroughly subjected to her displeasure as she makes sure for herself, scolds both of us, and threatens to throw me out as she helps Sammy settle into bed. He pleads with her and promises to not “pull another stunt like that.” He even makes a cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die move over his heart and flashes her his dimple.

She grumbles but agrees, and leaves after giving me a scathing glare.

I nod. I recognize a warning shot when I see one.