Line was hung from a pole and the catheter bag to the side of the table. I had a sheet placed over me and a small pillow under my head. The doctor, an...ther I hadn't seen before was also in O.R. scrubs. This doctor had a pair of glasses on with small magnifying lenses attached. He had a mask tied around his neck and knew too well it would soon be covering his mouth and nose. A nurse came to my side and asked me to turn onto my back so that she could give me a muscle relaxant. She told me she. A shadow passed over his face. ‘Yes.’ ‘What happened to them? Were they returned to their families?’ ‘Most of them.’ ‘Untouched?’ His haunted gaze met hers briefly and slid away. ‘Some.’ Jean-Pierre, Constance quickly found, was not muchly given to conversation. He passed his mornings in reading or in prayer, and drank himself to sleep each afternoon, where he’d remain dead to the world for hours on end. He rarely looked at her, not even when they were speaking. Yet in his quiet, odd way, he. More

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