Roxy POV
The ride to the hospice was two hours, but it felt so much shorter. Vincent asked me one question, and the floodgates opened; it was like permission to offload all my worries and fears; we were pulling up into the hospice before I realized I had not given Vincent a chance to speak. He was so patient, nodding in agreement and opening the cooler, and I grabbed something to eat along with him, but that did not stop the dribble that kept flowing out of my mouth. I would take a bite, chew, swallow, and talk some more; it was like I had lost my filter and had no idea how to turn it off.
But the moment we pulled up, and I had to get out of the truck, my words got stuck in my mouth, and I was walking, hobbling beside Vincent as slowly as I could. David is speedwalking ahead of us. That
