“Mr. Murphy,” the supervisor said sternly. “You violated hospital policy by leaving your treatment area and—”
“Write me up,” Dale said tiredly. “I’m dying anyway. What are you gonna do, kill me faster?”
“The child?” the supervisor asked.
“Sleeping. First time in three days. And not just passed out from exhaustion—real sleep.”
The supervisor’s stern expression cracked. “How did you—”
“I just held him,” Dale said simply. “Made him feel safe. Sometimes that’s all anybody needs. Someone to make them feel safe while they hurt.”
Dale’s brothers got him settled. He was exhausted, could barely keep his eyes open, but he kept talking about Emmett.Continue reading…
