When I walked into the room and toward the bed, there lay the stone.  It was equidistant between the dresser I bought from the money Nana left me, and the spot where just the day before I had helped you pass. 

The eyes of the assisting doctor were round, blue, and fiercely focused. She said something to the nurse that I don’t remember, but knew it meant you were gone. I asked the time. 8:35 am.