In Her Shadow by August McLaughlin Page B

however, which is what caused the blockage in his arteries. We’ll perform an endartectomy in the next few days—a procedure that should reduce the build-up and hopefully prevent a recurrence.”
    “Where is the clot located?” Hank asks.
    “Not sure of the exact spot, but definitely in an artery leading to the brain, cerebral thrombosis. He’s stable now, which is positive. If everything goes smoothly and he regains consciousness I imagine he’ll be able to start rehabilitation treatments soon.”
    “And if it doesn’t go smoothly?”
    “As with any surgery, there are risks. Swelling, blood clots…in rare cases, heart attack, seizures, additional strokes. Since arterial diseases affect the whole body, we can’t be certain how he’ll respond. I’ve done this procedure many times though, and in most cases, the results are positive.” He looks at Claire intently. “You should be grateful he got here quickly.”
    She can’t argue with that. Grandma is known to call the doctor at the sign of a sneeze, especially when it comes to Grandpa. Her notorious paranoia may have saved his life.
    “It’s common for a spouse to experience shock,” Schrieffer says, lowering his voice. Grandma, though several feet away, seems worlds away in her mind. “They must be close.”
    “They are.” Like salt and pepper shakers, Claire has often thought. Grandma for perseverance, Grandpa for spice. “It’s really okay for her to stay here tonight?”
    “Absolutely, I recommend it. She can stay in his room; there’s an open bed. We make exceptions for such cases when we can. I think it helps the patients and their loved ones—non-scientifically speaking, of course.”
    As Dr. Schrieffer leaves, Claire offers her arm to Grandma. She touches her back as they walk back to Grandpa’s room, her grandmother seeming more slouched than she usual. “He knows you’re here, Grandma. That’s probably why he woke up.”
    She guides Grandma to a chair and gives her a blanket. “I’ll come back with some of your things. Then Hank and I will stay at your place. So if you need anything, just call.” She kisses the top of her head and then approaches Grandpa.
    “Love you, Gramps,” she whispers. She kisses his cheek and walks out with Hank, feeling as though two-thirds of her heart remain in the room, hoping she’ll get it all back.
     

Chapter Twenty-Six
     
    She listens as he types at his computer, wondering how long she’s been back in the basement. A few days at least. Meanwhile she’s wracked her brain for ways to escape, Her moods have ranged from eager and hopeful to totally resigned, depending on whether a new idea strikes, another gets shot down, and whether she’s had sleep or calories. The thick shakes, as much as she hates them, give her energy. Ideas often follow, triggering bursts of hope, adding fuel to her get-out-of-here fire. When she’s particularly weak, hope feels like the thing she should let go of. If that’s the case, the thick and fatty shakes are as foolish as she thought.
    He stands and adds sheets to the bed he placed next to hers last night while she slept.
    “Wake up.” His voice cuts through the silent air and her thoughts. “I need to move you.”
    She opens her eyes and gives him a blank stare. She knew this was coming. Why else would there be a second bed?
    He lifts her and lays her down on the freshly made bed, then straps her down. The hard bowl beneath her is how she’ll “relieve” herself while he’s away. She holds her breath while he moves the pillow from her former bed to the new one, places it under her head.
    He didn’t notice, she thinks, smiling on the inside. The knife, she still has it.
    “I won’t be long,” he says, opening her mouth. He’s only just returned and he’s leaving again? Not that she minds. He hands her a water glass and places two pills on her tongue. She recognizes them: pills that help her sleep.
    As he turns to leave, his expression almost warm, she