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might pass out, I scrubbed my whole body, mentally adding a razor and shaving cream to the list of toiletries I had to get, then loaded up my toothbrush and scrubbed all the nasty fuzziness from my teeth and tongue.
    I didn’t even look in the mirror when I got out. There was no point really. I was one of those lucky girls who had dark brows and lashes, full lips, and relatively clear skin, which all added up to one amazing thing: I didn’t really need makeup to look like a human being. Besides, I was going to go to the hospital and then come back here for what would hopefully be a better day of apartment and job hunting. Didn’t need to look gorgeous for that.
    Wrapping the scratchy, ridiculously-too-small towel around me, I stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. It was only then that I saw a white, half-folded sheet of paper slid just under my door.
     
    A—
     
    I knocked a couple times, but you must have crashed. I can help you find a place and a job. Be ready with all your stuff at 4:00—I’ll meet you down in the lobby.
     
    —R
     
    A thrill ran through me—one because Ryder really had done what he said he would, which I’d never ever expected, and two because I wouldn’t have to stay in this musty room another night. Maybe.
    But first thing’s first: I needed to check on Mom.
     
    At the hospital, I sat and talked with her for a little while about the weather and about how she was feeling—still in a lot of pain from her surgery, still sleeping a lot because of the painkillers they’d given her. I also spoke to Dr. Ernest when he came through on rounds. He showed me the results of Mom’s MRI and confirmed there had been a brief loss of blood flow to Mom’s hippocampus.
    “If it had been prolonged,” he said, “her memories might have become irretrievable. But I’m confident that with a lot of work and love, we can help her remember enough.”
    For the next few hours, Mom and I watched one of her beloved soap operas—I tried to fill her in on what had happened based on what she’d told me in our daily conversations over the years—and then I sat answering emails on my phone while she napped. I showed her my touchscreen phone when she woke up and asked about it and spent half an hour trying to teach her how to play the new game everyone was obsessed with.
    She shook her head at the thing in disbelief. “Last I remember, you were begging me for a basic cell phone. With buttons.”
    I squeezed her hand and watched her tap away.
    Just as I was about to leave, Carol rolled Mike in to Mom’s room. Mom looked at him warily and I wanted to as well—but I reminded myself that Mom would have to re-form a relationship with him, would have to remember what it was about him that made her so happy. She would have to do it on her own, too, because I hadn’t been around enough or become close enough with Mike to know anything about it myself.
    Carol smiled. “Hi, Maria. Mike was in for some physical therapy consultation, and he needed a buddy to help him work his morning crossword. Said you were always good at them.”
    Mike’s eyes glistened, but he looked hopeful. My heart twisted at the sight of this man, who obviously loved my mom a lot. Mom eyed him, and while she didn’t smile, she didn’t freak out either. “I’m sleepy, but I’ll see how much I can help.”
    “Oh, you’re the best at these,” he said. “Trust me.”
    Carol grinned and wheeled him over to Mom’s other side, then caught my eye and gave me a quick nod. “I’ll be back in to check on you soon, Maria. Okay?”
    Hearing that reassured me that Mom would be okay without me, even with Mike in here.
    “I need to go take care of some stuff,” I said, squeezing Mom’s hand.
    “Hospital stuff? Stuff to do with me?” she asked, her brow furrowed. That was so Mom. She would hate to know that I was doing anything to take care of her—and really, I realized, I wasn’t. It was all Mike handling the insurance stuff and