Yolanda is still weak.
She can barely lift her body from the bed, . . She sleeps has hot and cold flashes at night. I muffle her pained grunts with the pillow. We can't let them know we're here.
They're always out there, prowling, shrieking through the night. We're surrounded. I don't want them to be our end. . . I want peace. I'll be by your side forever. I promise.
I love you, Yolanda.