Brenda set the water on the overbed table and placed the bag on the foot of my mattress. “The officer is still downstairs filling out his paperwork,” she said. “He wants to come back up to get your statement about what your sister did to the monitor.”
I nodded slowly, tapping my right index finger against my thigh under the sheet. “Thank you, Brenda.”
“You should check your things,” she said, crossing her arms tightly over her clipboard. “Sometimes things get misplaced between the ambulance and the emergency room.”
I untied the green twist-tie and reached inside. My fingers found my wallet, my reading glasses, and my small tube of lipstick, but when I dug down to the bottom of the leather bag, the heavy brass ring that held my house keys was not there.
I emptied the contents onto the white sheet, turning the purse inside out. “My keys are gone,” I said.
Brenda leaned closer, her eyes scanning the small pile of my life. “Are you sure they weren’t in your coat pocket?”
