Margaret kept herself busy, preparing the oatmeal.

Madelyn sensed a reassuring presence, a warm hand holding hers, connected to the IV drip—it was Zach. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw the face she least wanted to encounter at that moment. With a feeble voice, she inquired, "Where's Dal?"

Zach reassured her, "He's all right now. Someone's looking after him. Are you hungry? How about some oatmeal?"

Madelyn looked at Zach, her expression composed. Over the past three months, she had picked up