TUESDAY
Kneeling next to the bed, he looked at her pale face, and cried. "Samantha?" he whispered. He was afraid to touch her. What if she... her eyelids fluttered then her bloodshot eyes focused on him.
"T." Her voice sounded like a rusty gate. "I'm so c-c-cold."
He grabbed the coverlet and drew it over her body. He noticed the fine trembling of her arms and thanked God her body still felt something, anything. Hope slid through him.
"Why are you cryin', Tuesday? Never seen you cry."
"I'm allergic to your beauty, baby girl. You got Ariana Grande beat hands down."
Sammie's lips attempted a smile, but dried blood stilled their movements. She snuggled into the comforter and her eyelids drifted shut.
"Sammie? You gotta stay with me. Stay awake. I mean it. Open your eyes."
"You're not the boss of me," she muttered.
