Mikołaj woke up in the afternoon the next day. He was still half conscious. He looked around the room where he was lying. His bed was closest to the window, and it was probably the rays of the autumn sun shining into his eyes that made him wake up.
The middle bed was empty. Only on the bed by the door sat an elderly man surrounded by a three-generation family. Skrzynecki smiled faintly.
He did not notify his relatives that he was going to the hospital. He didn't want to worry them. They lived in another city, and he didn't need them to bother with the long journey, since there was no point in doing so. After all, Mikołaj was a big boy and he could easily cope with a visit to the hospital.
