instead of the nurse who had lowered a monitor so I could say goodbye to my daughter in peace.
She carried two things.
The first was another glass casserole dish with a blue lid.
The second was a plain black notebook from the drugstore.
Brand-new.
Price sticker still attached.
She didn’t come inside.
She stood on the step and said, “I know it’s not my place.”
I told her she was about the only person whose place it was.
Then she handed me the notebook.
“You kept writing at 3:
