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Father, but I would like you to use my name, if you don’t mind.”
    They’d chatted easily about many things and Katherine was glad for his company. His personality was engaging, and his passion for his street ministry was evident, as was his dry sense of humor.
    The nurses also became sources of kindness for Katherine. They always stopped for a few moments to chat with Father DeCarlo and Katherine. As they went about daily care, they enjoyed Kat’s stories about Molly. More than once, they expressed to Kat how nice it was to know the personal side of the woman they otherwise knew only as a patient.
    The unit was busy and the atmosphere intense. Katherine sensed it was almost a relief for the nurses to pause in their demanding routine with a patient who looked like she would live.
    The head nurse in charge of Molly’s care, Roslyn, made certain to explain what they were doing and how they viewed Molly’s progress. “You may not see the small improvements as we do. I know how it might look like nothing is happening, but she is coming along. I assure you.”
    As the hours slowly passed, Katherine was pleased to note she was doing a better job of keeping her tears in check. She had never considered herself a crybaby, but the specter of death at Molly’s age had put Katherine’s emotions into a spin. She’d never given much thought to her own mortality. Life just kept on going. But now, facing the possibility of death with someone so close to her had a profound impact.
    She shared those feelings with Father DeCarlo that afternoon. Father DeCarlo . . . Tony—that was still hard for her—had said a lot that afternoon about the power of faith and positive thinking. She needed to focus on that. He had made a point that one did not need to be religious to draw on that power, although it certainly helped, he had added with a smile. And this made her smile, through her tears, when she lost it at that moment.
    Their chat had brought back memories of her mother and her “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger” mantra. The priest had essentially been saying the same thing to her. She certainly knew her mother had lived a life of faith and strength without being religious. The role model was there, loud and clear. How Kat missed her.
    As she paced the corridor for a change of scenery, Kat couldn’t help recalling the crisis in her life when James walked out. A twinge reminded her how gutted she had been as she read his note that day in the kitchen. Their wedding anniversary. The beginning of the rest of her life. Dwelling on that thought, she nodded to herself and wondered how the next phase of Molly’s life would play out.
    “Please let there be one,” she whispered out loud. “I’ll be here to help with whatever she needs. I will not let her down.”
    With Wi-Fi in the reception area, Katherine took breaks to keep up with e-mails. She was touched to hear from some of the women in her expat walking group. There was even a message from Bernadette, saying she hoped all was well, and Annette had written to say the yoga class was sending their best wishes.
    Her friend Véronique kept in touch regularly. Sometimes it was simply a philosophical thought or a photo of something she knew would be of interest. Katherine knew she was preparing some of her sought-after weaving for a Côte d’Azur art show in the spring.
    In fact, Véronique had persuaded Katherine to consider entering some of her photography in that show. Thinking about it now, Kat was not sure she would even be there. Everything seemed so up in the air. Molly’s well-being was her priority. If I don’t look after her, who will?
    Hearing from friends in France reinforced her sense of home over there. Kat felt annoyed for losing confidence in the choices she had been making in the previous months. She knew it had nothing to do with her feelings for Philippe. These sudden uncertainties were upsetting her.
    Taking the subway early that evening, she tried to