She was late.
Joan was never, ever late.
She was late, and the test was positive. She toppled off her bed, which could be potentially dangerous, and called Grace.
“Ahm lade, en thuh tesd wash postib,” Joan said to the floor.
“Oh my God,” Grace responded. “I’ll call Adam.”
“Thank you,” Joan replied weakly as they hung up, and promptly collapsed on the floor again.
Footsteps. There were footsteps, quick and light, coming up the stairs, and then loud and heavy down the hall.
“Jane,” Adam said from outside her door. “I’m not going anywhere.”
That was enough.