“Nana,” the child says, her hand hesitantly tugging on the bedsheet.
“Hmm?” the old woman hums. Her eyes open slowly, as if it takes all her remaining strength to move her eyelids.
“Why do you wear that?”
She points a tiny finger at the scarf tied around her grandmother’s wrist – red silk laying against the hospital-white sheet.
“Ah.” The woman swallows, a dry, scraping sound. “This is for my...