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Arthur reached into his pocket to his relief, but his fingers met nothing but lint. He checked the other pocket. Empty. His wallet was sitting on his bedside table next to a half-empty glass of water.

Arthur cleared his throat—a sound like grinding gravel. "I... I forgot my wallet."

"Consider it a 'get well soon' gift," she said, sliding the receipt toward him. "Just make sure you actually the next bag yourself." hold cough drops buy

The cashier looked at his pale face and the desperate way he was gripping the bag. She sighed, pulled a five-dollar bill from her own pocket, and swiped it through the register.

"That'll be four-fifty," the cashier said, not looking up from her phone. Arthur reached into his pocket to his relief,

He froze, clutching the bag. He looked at the cashier, then at the exit, then back at the cough drops. His throat gave a rebellious, jagged twitch. He couldn't leave without them, but he couldn't pay. "Sir?" the cashier prompted, finally looking up.

"Just on," he whispered to his own ragged throat. "Almost there." His wallet was sitting on his bedside table

Arthur popped a drop into his mouth immediately. The cooling menthol was instant heaven. "Thank you," he managed to croak, finally finding a bit of peace in the quiet hum of the night.