Every day of the month on the calendar tacked to the far wall hit her in the face ... Monday, the ninth ... Monday, the sixteenth ... before she heard Cub’s:
“Dr. Ethridge Sterling, speaking.”
“Cub ... can you come to room 708 in The Call building, right away...?”
“What? ... Salscie...? Where are you? How did you...?”
A terrible calm invaded her.
“It’s me, Cub! I walked out of the hospital. I had to...! Something awful...!”
“What?” the rising concern of his voice seemed to be put on, and then his, “I can’t leave Father. He’s....”
She braced herself for a final effort and begged:
“I know. But I’m in terrible ... I need you, darling!”
“But, Salscie....”