the freeway,” he said.
Carla’s face changed before she could stop it.
Not pity.
Pain.
That was worse.
“I’m okay,” he said quickly.
“Are you?”
He looked at the sandwich.
“I get by.”
Carla sat beside him.
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke.
The emergency room moved around them. Shoes squeaked. Phones rang. A toddler cried somewhere behind a curtain. Someone continue reading …