They held each other awkwardly. She kept her head away from the wailing and tears to save herself from being caked in running make-up.
Unintelligible, breathy sobs escaped from the mop of curls and echoed in the empty hospital corridor.
What’s the problem? He’s not dead.
She could think of words of comfort but was too embarrassed to say them.
“He ain’t dead. Is he?”
The howling mess leaned forward for further embrace but she took a half-step backwards and tried to disguise her frown.