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EMILY SAT in the dark room. A slight smell of antiseptic permeated the shadows. Her father was not visible, but she heard his laboured breath and the soft clink of the machine that helped that breath. She turned her head towards the window where she saw a softening in the shadows that puzzled her.
“Is that morning?” she wondered. “Have I sat up all night?”
Emily took a deep, quiet breath and stretched her neck. Then she leaned on the arm of the chair and pulled her legs up, curled her feet to the side. It quickly became uncomfortable and she stood, went to the window, which faced north. Yes. To the right she saw another hospital wing jut out, a solid box, with the hint of light creeping around the edges. Yes. The sun was rising.
Emily turned away and went to stand beside her father. She touched his hand. There was already a chill underneath his dry skin. Behind Emily, the sun rose, warm on the world. Before her, was a cold darkness.