An Unopened Medical File From a Colorado Lake House Clinic

low vinyl stool beside my gurney, her head tilted toward the corridor as if she expected my parents to walk through the doors.

“You are coming home with me, Olivia. This ends tonight,” she said.

I looked at the white acoustic tiles on the ceiling, counting the tiny grey dots that formed irregular patterns.

“He will come to the house,” I said.

“Let him continue reading …