She could twist anger.
Calm gave her nothing to grab.
She gave a small laugh.
“It was beeping like crazy,” she said. “She was getting herself worked up, so I just unplugged it for a second.”
The nurse walked to the machine.
Her shoes squeaked twice against the polished floor.
She took the cord from Tessa’s hand without asking permission.
Tessa let go because the nurse did not look like someone who needed permission.
The plug went back into the wall.
The monitor blinked.
A line jumped across the screen.
The beeping returned, faster at first, then settling.
The nurse checked the leads under the edge of my gown with professional care.
She looked at the cuff on my arm.
She looked at my oxygen number.
Then she looked at Tessa.
“No one touches medical equipment in this room except staff,” she said.
My mother straightened.
“It’s fine,” she said. “They’re sisters. She knows how dramatic she gets.”
