Free Over the Waters by Deborah Raney

buckled his seat belt. She pulled forward and navigated the vehicle onto a crowded, narrow street. "There was another woman coming in today--on your same flight, I think. She's working with Hope House, just up the road from Madame Duval's. I offered to pick her up, too, but the Greenes--they run Hope House--had some other errands to run."
    "I see." He hoped the girl wouldn't yammer at him about people he didn't even know all the way to Madame Duval's.
    His terse response seemed to get the message across, and she fell silent. Max stared out the window, taking in the abject poverty all around them, trying to imagine how his son must have felt the first time he traveled this route.
    They rode along without speaking for several minutes, until Max blurted out, "So you're the one who was with Josh...when he died?"
    She took in a jagged breath, as though she'd been braced for his question. Even in profile, Max saw the shadow that passed over her face.
    "Yes. I took him to the hospital. I was there--in his room--when he died."
    He took a deep breath. "So what happened?"
    She met his gaze, then looked away quickly. "I...left the hospital for about an hour. He was very weak, but I honestly thought he was starting to improve a little. When I came back, he had coded." She rubbed the space between her eyebrows, as though she had a sudden headache. "They did everything they could, Dr. Jordan. They trached him. Gave CPR...I really think they did all they could. It just...wasn't enough." She shrugged and chewed at her bottom lip. "I'm so sorry," she said finally.
    "You're a nurse?"
    "Yes."
    "How long was he sick?" They were on a main street now and he had to raise his voice to make it heard over the car's engine and the noises of the people crowding the sidewalks.
    "How did it get so bad...so fast?" He barked out the question before he could think how accusatory it sounded.
    Samantha glanced at him and cleared her throat. "You did get my letter with the hospital's report?"
    "Yes..." He struggled to keep his voice even and yet be heard. "But how did he get so sick in the first place? Was he...not taking proper precautions?"
    She hesitated for a moment. "No, he probably wasn't. We had a rash of nasty respiratory viruses at the orphanage. Josh got it, but he wouldn't admit it at first, and even when he couldn't deny it, he wouldn't slow down. He was working practically around the clock helping take care of the kids who were sick."
    A pig trotted into the road right in front of the Land Rover. Samantha jerked the wheel, dodging the animal as though it were a dead possum. She went right on talking. "Josh ended up developing pneumonia. He finally got bad enough that we convinced him to go to the hospital. But as you probably know, the hospitals over here leave a lot to be desired. They did the best they could, but he'd lost a lot of weight and hadn't been eating or sleeping right, so his immune defenses were down. They had him on antibiotics. And it seemed like he was holding his own. I...I really thought he was getting better." Her last word rose on a wail, and she put a hand to her quivering mouth.
    Max watched her. This girl had cared deeply for his son. He wondered if there had been something more than friendship between them. Josh had never mentioned anyone in particular the few times they'd spoken after he arrived in Haiti. But then he and Josh hadn't exactly been on the friendliest of terms for the past couple of years. Still, he'd always imagined Josh alone here--a stranger amongst these primitive people.
    He had barely left the airport, and already he was seeing things from a very different perspective. It gave him hope. As difficult as it was to be here where Joshua had spent his last days, he was glad he'd come. Maybe he could finally put closure on this horrible grief.
    He was silent for several miles as the car bounced along the rutted roads. The girl beside him didn't try to fill the void. He was grateful.
    "I really don't know what I