Beatrice remembered that feeling, too. Once she was out of Resus and in cubicles, she hadn’t wanted the emergency staff to call her husband or her family, because she knew they’d blame themselves for not picking up on the signs. And she hadn’t wanted to burden any of her friends with how low she was feeling. She’d just been grateful that she hadn’t been treated in her own department so she hadn’t had the sheer embarrassment of having to face them all afterwards.
‘I just don’t want to be here,’ Sally said, her voice shaking.
‘I know, sweetheart, but I really can’t let you go until you’re better,’ Beatrice said, still holding her hand. ‘I need to be sure you’re not going to collapse with liver damage.’
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