She pulls a chair over beside the bed — one of those horrible plastic chairs that are never ever comfortable — and takes his hand when she sits down. She squeezes it, once, and then leans over and rests her forehead on the bed and says, roughly, “Please, please call me the next time things get like that.” Her throat hurts with the effort of forcing back tears.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
She pulls a chair over beside the bed — one of those horrible plastic chairs that are never ever comfortable — and takes his hand when she sits down. She squeezes it, once, and then leans over and rests her forehead on the bed and says, roughly, “Please, please call me the next time things … Continue reading He smiled, hand still locked with Mordred’s, who was asleep next to him in the bed. “Hey… ” He whispered, holding his free hand out to his best friend.<\/span>