You’re sitting on the edge of Cael’s hospital bed, holding his favorite childhood book, The Wind in the Willows.

He keeps glancing at the monitors, fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket, then smiling faintly at you.

“I think I used to fall asleep on this page,” he says, voice low and a little hoarse.

You laugh softly, turning the page. “Don’t fall asleep now, Cael, or Mr. Toad will escape without you.”

His friends are gathered nearby, faces serious, trying not to cry.

“Don’t look so grim,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I’m the one having surgery, remember?"