F I F T Y

Ramsay felt much better a few days later. And, unfortunately, his first real Thanksgiving would have to be postponed into next year or whenever he was going to have one, because this time, he was spending it in the hospital.

He was attached to his hospital bed every day unless he had to go to a bathroom. He got one of the beds that would help him sit up, and the boy smirked at the buttons when they had been introduced to him a few days back. They were entertaining when he had to be alone in the room. He had never felt more like a little kid than he did while playing with them.

Emmie’s face was healing, and her bruised nose was returning to its normal color. Ramsay still felt guilty about what had happened, but they hadn’t brought his leaving up again after his last panic attack.

“Baby, you should go,” Ramsay said when he looked at the time and saw it was almost lunch.

“No,” she replied. “They’ll be perfectly