Lost

Ellie opened the heavy door to the south wing. The lock clicked behind her.

In room 17 she found Marian knitting. “Hello, Marian. Another scarf?”

“Yes, for my daughter. She’s in seventh grade. Who are you?”

“I’m your--I’m Ellie. I brought more yarn.”

“Good. My husband will like the brown.”

Ellie set the yarn on the dresser, next to the wedding picture from 1962. She kissed Marian’s forehead. “See you Thursday.”

“Okay. Bring yarn. Brown would be good.”

The nurse activated the unlock buzzer. Ellie wiped her eyes and wrapped her hand-knitted scarf around her head, against the December wind.