Page 88 (1/2)

“Shh,” Francis said with a smile, a slow, easy smile that crinkled his eyes into slits “I know” He squeezed Angel’s hand “Just hang on, brother I’m with you”

And Angel woke up crying

Madelaine stood in the open doorway of OR 8, wondering what she was going to do about Angel Allenford and his surgical nurse were huddled around the bed, preparing Angel for his first post-op biopsy Even frory voice

His s were uncontroll

able One , and the next—whaend al straws to see ould have to check his vitals and adjust his orilla in Intensive Care

Physically, things were going well He’d been weaned off all intravenous drugs, including dopa in leaps and bounds, and had been able to leave isolation earlier than most patients The physical therapist had already visited hi at least forty ative

Yes, physically he was doing great Mentally he was a mess He seemed unable to come to terms with the new lifestyle Every pill or shot or blood test drove hi in his cheeks or the weight he’d lost while he was sick

In short, most of the time he was a pain in the ass

But he wouldn’t be one for long

Soon Angel would be discharged from the hospital and he’d be on his own No one to take care of him but him

And if soe quickly, she was afraid he wouldn’t take it seriously enough Hadn’t that always been Angel’s proble seriously?

His nore He had to follow the rules, for once in his life If he didn’t…

She pushed the thought away, refusing to dwell on it Angel had Francis’s heart—all that was left of her laughing, blue-eyed priest—and she’d be damned if she’d let him throw the miracle away

He was lost right now She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the fleeting softness of his touch And whenever Angel got scared, he got angry; she knew that, had always known it

The question as she going to do about it?