Burn by Monica Hesse

Rowena’s bun. “Can I borrow it? Just for a second.”
    Rowena hesitated, looking to both sides to see if anyone else was watching. The security guard was on the phone. Rowena plucked the pencil from her hair and handed it to Lona over the nylon partition. Lona scratched out the names as quickly as she could, before Rowena could decide to leave again, trying to make her handwriting more legible than usual. “Just read him these names,” she rushed. “Tell him they’re from me. Please, it’s important.”
    Rowena paused for only a second before taking one corner of it. “I’ll read them. But I don’t think it will help.”
    â€œJust try it. Read them a couple of times. Over and over again. See if he recognizes them – if he makes a face, or a noise, or if he – sometimes, you know how he makes that sound? See if he makes the Nehhh sound when he hears any of the names.”
    Rowena looked back over her shoulder. The security guard was still on his call. She pulled Lona in, bowing her head in and muttering so softly Lona could barely see her lips move.
    â€œYou’re not his legal family so you didn’t hear this from me,” Rowena said quietly. “Do you understand? Nod that you understand.”
    Lona nodded, quickly. She held her breath. The knot in her stomach was beginning to grow bigger.
    â€œIt’s Warren. He’s had an – an accident. He’s brain dead.”
    â€œNo!” Without thinking, she stumbled against the partition, trying to push the rope aside. Rowena held her back, swiftly and firmly, before the security guard could see what was going on.
    â€œYou can’t.”
    â€œI want to see him.”
    â€œYou
can’t
, Lona. His family doesn’t even know; we’re trying to get hold of them.”
    His family
, Lona thought. He doesn’t have a family. He has a dead daughter and a wife who never comes to visit him. “
You
don’t know, either,” Rowena hissed. “Remember, you don’t know because I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell you
anything
.”
    â€œWhat kind of an accident? What happened?” A hiccup escaped Lona’s lips before she could finish the sentence. She realized she had started to cry. Rowena put her arm around Lona’s shoulder, briskly pulling her in and clucking softly in her ear, warm little sounds made by her front teeth and the tip of her tongue.
    â€œI know,” she crowed softly. “I know this is hard.”
    She thinks I’m upset because I’m sad,
Lona realized. She wasn’t sad. Not as sad as she should be. She was angry that the Architect was gone. She was furious with him for leaving her. Just when she thought she was getting closer to figuring something out, even the fractured, tenuous connection she had with her vision was now taken away.
    It’s not his fault,
she reminded herself. People don’t will themselves into comas. Men who are still learning to tie their shoes cannot force their brains to shut down.
    â€œWhat happened?” she asked again. “The accident. Did he fall?”
    â€œWe’re going to have a full investigation,” Rowena said, stroking Lona’s hair. “We’ll find out why it happened.” Her voice was shaking. It was soothing that didn’t soothe.
    â€œHow what happened, Rowena? You said that he was fine until this morning.”
    â€œThe aide was new,” Rowena explained. “He was playing the shoe game with Warren. On and off. On and off. His shoes had laces. He left to answer a call in another room.”
    His shoes had laces.
Lona knew how this story ended. The speaker crackled again. She still couldn’t make out all of the words, but she heard Rowena being paged to the second floor.
    â€œHe was only gone for a minute, but that’s all it took,” Rowena said. “We’re still going to figure out why he would do that. We still